Aeipathy
by anjelicajasmin
Summary: (n) an enduring and consuming passion. What if the tables were turned? Olivia is married with kids and Fitz has simply been waiting for "the one." If things were different, would they still want to be together? AU.
1. Chapter 1

"The universe is out to get me."

"Ok, Liv, I think you're being a bit dramatic. I told you, you should have learned how to change a tire."

Olivia shifted the phone between her head and shoulder, kneeling to inspect her car tire. "Please, not right now. It's like everything that could possibly go wrong has turned to shit today. First Edison has to go out of town which wouldn't be so bad but then Avery got sick so I've got to tote her around with me all day and my editor keeps calling me and now _this_."

The forceful gusts of air from the cars speeding down the highway behind her rocked Olivia on her heels and she stood up to get back into the driver's seat. On the other end of the call she could hear her sister snickering.

"Lauryn are you going to come help me or not?" Olivia snapped, becoming increasingly impatient.

The laughter subsided. "Yes, baby sister, I'll leave right now. Where exactly are you?"

"Along the interstate, right before the exit to 495. And _please_ hurry up this whole day is giving me one hell of a headache."

A tiny, high pitched giggle erupted from the back seat. "Mommy said a bad word!"

Olivia pitched her hear forward, letting it fall onto the steering wheel. "Oh God Lauryn, I'll see you when you get here." She quickly ended the call and turned to face her newly awakened daughter in the back seat. "Mommy is an adult and is allowed to say bad words but I really shouldn't use them around you. Are you feeling any better, Avi?"

As if suddenly remembering her poor state of health the little girl shifted her features into a tortured grimace and coughed loudly. "No. I wanna go home."

Sighing, Olivia extended a hand and smoothed a few flyaway hairs from Avery's face, feeling the girl's clammy forehead and she frowned. "I know, sweetie. Auntie will be here soon to help us."

From the corner of her eye Olivia saw an unfamiliar car pulling up behind them. She instinctively reached for her keys, turning the car off and wielding them like a weapon. She turned around in her seat and watched through the rearview mirror as the door opened and a man got out, walking quickly through the brisk fall weather and stopping at her window. In her mind she went over every self-defense maneuver she had ever heard and steeled herself for whatever she might have to do. When he rapped on the window, she jumped and cursed herself quietly for losing her cool.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you, ma'am. I was just trying to see if you needed any help."

Her first thought was that he had a beautiful voice; a deep, smooth baritone that soothed her nerves enough to loosen her grip on the keys that had begun to bite into her hand. As she turned to look at him through the window, her only thought was that the man standing there was as close to perfect as a man could get. He was tall and lean but his toned muscles could be seen clearly through the tight black thermal shirt he was wearing. His windswept hair was dark brown but the sun glinting behind him revealed gold undertones that highlighted his face. His jaw was chiseled and strong and his eyes – Olivia found herself getting lost in his eyes which were a clear and steely bright grey.

"So do you need any help?"

Olivia shook her head, clearing all of the inappropriate thoughts she was battling away and turned the car back on so she could lower the automatic window. "Um, hi. I mean, uh, my tire is flat," she replied absently, gesturing at the rear tire that was the culprit. She scolded herself for not telling him that she did in fact have help on the way but something inside of her was remiss to send this man away so quickly. Aside from his physical appearance there was something about him that drew Olivia to him completely. As he left her side to inspect the tire she gave herself over to the internal battle.

_Lauryn will be here any minute. You don't need his help._

_Ok but let's be real. She probably hasn't even left the house yet._

_Probably. But what good could come of this?_

_I'd get my tire fixed quickly. I'd get to admire his physique while he does it._

_And how would your husband feel about that?_

_Well he's not here, now is he? It's not like I'm about to sleep with this man. I'm not cheating. I just want a few moments to talk to him. Nothing else._

_Who are you trying to convince?_

_Oh hush. I'll never see this man again. He's some stranger I met on the side of the highway._

_That sounds safe._

_To hell with you._

"Mama, you look constipated. You should eat more veggies."

Olivia shook her head again, sending her thoughts flying to the back of her mind. She sent a quick text message to Lauryn telling her never mind and checked herself in the visor mirror. She halted as she began to fix her lipstick, not sure why she was even bothering.

"Avery, sit right there, okay? We're going home in a few minutes."

Squaring her shoulders, Olivia took a deep breath and climbed out of the car. The man was just standing up as she turned to face him and she found herself looking further up than she had expected. She had always been quite short, and she was not wearing heels, but it still took her by surprise.

He smiled and her heart fluttered involuntarily. "Yep, it's definitely flat. Pop your trunk and I'll get the spare."

Olivia quickly returned to the front of the car, kneeling next to the seat and pretending to fumble for the trunk lock while trying to catch her breath. It was definitely throwing her off to have such little control over her body because of some guy she had just met. She was used to having a complete handle on everything around her, but the day had been out of her hands for some time and she attributed the whole situation to just that: the chaotic nature of her day. There was nothing special about this man or his movie-star looks or calming voice. He was just another man, one who happened to catch her eye for purely physical reasons and one who probably had a wife and family, much like she had a husband and two kids. She quickly composed herself and stood again.

When she turned back around he was kneeling again with a brand new tire and a jack lying next to him as he expertly worked on removing the flat tire. Olivia felt she should offer some kind of assistance but she really had no clue what to do and she was very much enjoying the view he had to offer. His muscles rippled as he unscrewed the bolts on the old tire and his butt was firm in his worn jeans. The simultaneous waves of arousal and guilt and washed over Olivia had her fighting to look away.

"I'm Fitz, by the way."

There it was again, that voice. Even though he was only introducing himself the lilt of his words had her feeling very warm and she flushed prettily. "Olivia." She was sure if she tried to speak anymore nothing appropriate would come out. "I'm married." She fought the urge to smack herself for opening her mouth. Of course it did not matter whether or not he knew if she was married, because either way nothing was going to occur between them. That was what she told herself.

He chuckled lightly. "That's good to hear. I was worried you were a jewel thief."

Flushing an even deeper shade of red, Olivia automatically shifted her left hand behind her back. "I didn't mean-"

Fitz cut her off. "It's okay. You should want to let me know. A beautiful woman like you, I imagine you get asked out all the time, despite your marital status. It's too bad I didn't find you sooner, Olivia."

She shivered at the way he pronounced her name and ran a hand through her hair for lack of something to do. This man really was something and it was making her thought process hazy. She opted to keep her mouth shut while he finished the job and they remained there in silence. It took him less than ten minutes to complete the job and he stood up, beaming proudly as he wiped his hands together.

"That should do it. I'll throw the flat one back into your trunk. You wouldn't happen to have a napkin, would you?"

Of course, as a mother, she kept a myriad of cleaning supplies in her car and she nodded at him as they moved in opposite directions. When she returned with a handful of baby wipes to give him he was closing her trunk and turned to her with another panty-dropping smile that had her knees wobbling. She felt like a pathetic teenage girl, drooling over some man she knew nothing about but that he looked good and could fix tires like a professional. She idly wondered if perhaps that was exactly what he did but his car looked much too expensive for a mechanic.

Olivia held the wipes out for him and he thanked her as he reached a large hand for them. Their fingers brushed as the wipes exchanged hands and Olivia felt a jolt run through her body at the contact. It warmed her insides and made her head swim. She almost swayed on her feet but was brought back to reality at the sight of her daughter, nose pressed up against the glass of the back window.

"Thank you. For your help, I mean," she said to him quietly, wordlessly pointing at the car seat to tell Avery to strap herself back in.

Fitz grabbed his jack from the asphalt and began to walk her back around to the driver's seat. "It's no problem. I'm a sucker for a good flat tire." He jerked his head towards the back seat as Olivia got into the car. "Is that your daughter?" At her nod, he replied, "She's as beautiful as you. Goodbye, Olivia." He waved goodbye to Avery and turned on his heel to get back into his car.

"Fitz, wait." He stopped in his tracks at the sound of her voice. It finally sounded convicted and not like she was unsure of what to say next like she had been for the duration of their encounter. This time he only turned his head and made a questioning face at her. "What do you do for a living?"

"Me? I teach. What about you?"

"Nothing, really." She thought about it for a moment, and admitted, "I'm a writer."

He nodded knowingly and gave one last smile before sauntering back to his car.

* * *

As a child Fitz had always believed in fate. His father, on the other hand, had believed in power and money and prostitutes. He had wanted Fitz to have the same future as him: sell his soul to corporate America and become the CEO of Grant Enterprises. For most of his life Fitz had gone along with it, up until the day he had needed an extra credit at university and had to take Introduction to Art. From that day forward, he told his father to go fuck himself and began to build his own destiny as a painter.

It was fate that that intro class was the only one that had any room that late in the semester, and it was fate that he had encountered Olivia on the side of the highway. It was the only explanation that he felt so connected to someone he had only just met and had barely spoken to. He felt like he knew more about her than anyone else, yet he did not know enough.

He knew she was embarrassed about the direction of her career, but he did not know where she had grown up. He knew she was always prepared (unless there was a flat tire), but he did not know what kind of shampoo she used. He knew she was very protective of hers, but he did not know her favorite song. He knew that she was as attracted to him as he was to her. And he knew that she was married.

As he took the exit nearest to his apartment, Fitz had never felt as conflicted as he did in that moment. This woman had completely enchanted him, but she had enchanted someone else first. And this man, whoever he was, had been good enough to her that she had married him and he had given her a daughter and provided for her and they were probably the happiest of families when together.

These revelations did nothing to ease the fire that Olivia had started in Fitz's heart. They did nothing to appease the jealousy he was feeling. He had met a woman who had captivated him so completely in fifteen short minutes and she was someone else's. Fate certainly did exist, but it was not always kind.

* * *

The phone rang the entire time Olivia was racing back and forth between the car and the house, unloading groceries while toting Avery, who had gotten progressively whinier. When she had finally gotten everything in its proper place and managed to distract the restless four year old with a bowl of macaroni and cheese and a marathon of Blue's Clues, she fell gracelessly onto her lounge chaise in the next room and pulled the finally silent phone from her purse. Four missed calls, three voicemails and six text messages from her sister, ranging chronologically from curious to concerned to panicky. Lauryn had always been very protective of Olivia because Liv had been very fragile as a child, and now that she was a grown woman, the over protectiveness that had once been endearing had become a bit of a bother. But she loved her sister and did not want her sick with worry, so she called Lauryn back.

"Olivia Pope, what the hell is wrong with you? I mean you tell me not to come get you and my niece off the side of the highway and then I don't hear from you for hours! I thought you'd tried to hitchhike or something."

"Calm down. I'm not completely stupid. Someone stopped and asked if I needed help and since I know you were probably taking your sweet time coming to get me, I accepted. That's all there is to it."

"Mm hmm. I know you, Liv. And anytime you say 'that's all there is to it' you are lying like a cobbler."

Olivia shook her head and laughed. Only her big sister would quote Russian literature while yelling at her. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, bullshit. I may have been born at night but I wasn't born last night. And later we'll have a long talk about how I'm turning into Mom but for now you better start talking."

Knowing her sister, and knowing that it really had no effect on her life, Olivia decided to tell Lauryn what happened. She left out the part about being overwhelmingly attracted to the man but something about the way she was telling the story – or maybe the way she sighed his name – gave her true feelings away.

"Baby sister, I am only going to say this once because you are a smart girl and I shouldn't even have to tell you this but you realize that nothing can happen between you and this guy?"

"Don't you think I know that, Lauryn? I would never even dream of cheating on Edison. I love him but I just… I can look. I'm a woman and I have needs and maybe I can check an attractive guy out every once in a while so when my husband is out of town I can picture a new face during 'me-time'."

"What you just described is literally you dreaming about cheating on Edison. I know what you mean though, and I believe you. You don't even know anything about this guy and the chances of you two seeing each other ever again are slim to none. And girl, you are a grown ass woman, did you really just use the term 'me-time'?"

Both women began to laugh and tease each other for a few moments before Olivia heard a car pull up and bade her sister goodbye. She met their babysitter at the front door and thanked her profusely for working at the last minute, accepting Connor and retreating back into the house. Avery came speeding into the room at the sound of her brother, who was being very rowdy as he twisted and wriggled in his mother's arms. Both of Olivia's children seemed to have gotten their energy from her parents because they moved nonstop, something Olivia had never understood. She made a few futile attempts to calm them down before simply depositing Connor into his playpen and putting on a movie they had all seen countless times before settling onto the floor with Avery in her lap.

It was around eight, after two hours of consistent shouting and roughhousing and sprinting around the den, that the children began to exhibit the telltale signs of sleepiness – struggling to keep their eyes open, talking incoherently, fighting with each other. They both protested when Olivia announced it was bedtime but did not fight as she gathered Connor in her arms, took Avery's hand, and moved them upstairs.

"Avi, go get your PJ's on while I put your brother down." The girl nodded firmly and moved into her room to do as she was told. Avery was going through a phase where she did not want help doing anything, following her "I'm a big baby phase" when Connor was born just a year and a half ago.

When both kids had had stories and kisses and songs and a moment to lament the fact that Daddy wasn't there to do his special bedtime ritual, they finally succumbed to the weight of their heavy eyelids and drifted into peaceful sleep as quickly as only a child can. Olivia took a moment to admire her two beautiful children and wonder, for the millionth time, how her life had become so domesticated. She loved her children dearly and would not trade them for all the adventure in the world, but as a young girl had always pictured her life as being one big enterprise.

_No use wondering now_, she thought, struggling to keep the bitter thoughts away as she shut herself in her bedroom. It had been a long day and all she wanted was to sleep but it never came easily to her. She took off her sweater and jeans, leaving her clad in only her underwear, and settled under the heavy brown comforter that Edison had insisted they get. It was for adults, he had said, and they were adults now. No more dreaming and adventuring for them.

Olivia placed a cold hand over her stomach, feeling goose bumps rise there, as she made an effort to think of something positive.

_Think of your kids. Think of writing. Think of something that makes you happy, Liv. Think of…_

_Fitz._

She gasped aloud as his name penetrated her thoughts. It had truly come from out of nowhere and she was not sure how long this infatuation was going to last, but she hoped it would be over by the time Edison got back. Nothing good could come of her constantly thinking about another man while her husband was in the room. For now, though, she could let the thoughts consume her and they soon had her breathing quickly and she felt her hand trailing downward of its own volition. The house was silent and dark and she was alone: it was the perfect moment for some me-time.

* * *

**A/N: I promised myself I was going to take a break but I had a dream about something like this last night and that's got to be a sign, right? So here I am again. I can never stay away for long. This will be my first story that's really plot driven. No more one-shots for me, I'm moving up. ****But tell me what you guys think and I'll update accordingly, if you like it. And if you don't I still want to hear about it. I can take the heat. xo**


	2. Chapter 2

Pleasant dreams of calm beaches and picturesque sunsets ended quickly as Olivia was jarred from her sleep by two solid blocks of weight hitting her from above. She rolled over in bed, tucking her head under a pillow as Avery and Connor began to rock her body from side to side, chanting loudly that they wanted breakfast. It was usually Edison's job to satisfy their morning needs as he was up to go to work anyway, and even on weekends he was up at the crack of dawn to send emails to clients overseas. On this particular Saturday morning, Olivia had the energetic duo all to herself and she groaned as they began to jump up and down on the bed.

"Mommy, if you don't get up I'm telling Daddy you were mean to us," Avery threatened boldly. Olivia knew that both kids tended to prefer their father because he was much more patient with them as a result of hardly being around. Besides mornings, he was usually nowhere to be found and he was constantly telling her to just take deep breaths and be nicer to them, like they were unpleasant coworkers and not children she was trying to raise. It was infuriating that she regularly had to be the bad guy but someone had to keep the spoiled children her husband coddled under control.

Olivia shot up in bed and seized each child by the hem of their pajamas, pulling them into her lap where they fell completely silent at her gaze and went still. "No more. Avi, go brush your teeth and meet us in the kitchen." She released the girl who padded into the hallway, her head hanging. "And as for you, little Mister." Olivia turned to her son and began to tickle his stomach, holding him in her lap while he laughed and struggled against her.

"Eeeeh I sorry, Mama. Stop, stop."

"That should teach you." Olivia stood with the boy in her arms and they moved into the master bathroom to brush teeth and she even got Connor to use his own potty, despite his protests. He seemed to enjoy having everyone at his beck and call when a dirty diaper arose and was reluctant to give that attention up, but Olivia made sure to give him a big hug and kiss and standing ovation, to which he bowed.

When Olivia made her way into the kitchen and placed Connor in his high chair, Avery was already sitting at the table, her Disney Princess place setting lined up neatly in front of her. She smiled apologetically at her mother when she walked into the kitchen and immediately began to terrorize her little brother, poking his feet where they dangled.

"Don't start that now," Olivia ordered as she glided through the kitchen, retrieving utensils and ingredients and expertly preparing a simple meal of scrambled eggs and turkey bacon for her picky eaters. She cut the bacon into small pieces for Connor and served their breakfast before seizing a banana from the counter and sitting at the across from Avery to eat it.

"So what do you guys want to do today?"

Avery made a face around a forkful of eggs. "The zoo."

"Zoo!" her brother echoed. That was the dynamic in their house at the moment; to Connor, anything Avery said was gold and he would repeat it in a much louder voice to get the point across.

Their double teaming would not work that day and Olivia made it very clear. "It's very cold outside. How about something indoors? Or better yet, something in the house." It was a stretch, and she was well aware, but it was worth a try.

"Ms. Lila told us about an art class for little kids at the grown up school. It's only for one day. Can we go to that?"

"It's called the university," Olivia informed her daughter and waited for the little girl to repeat the word. "Very good. I guess we can do that. After breakfast we'll get dressed and head out, okay? But not if you keep harassing your little brother."

* * *

The steam from her shower followed Olivia into the master bedroom as she moved to the dresser, clutching a damp towel around her body as she searched for something decent to wear. She had settled on a pair of jeans and a rose pink sheer blouse, in an effort to combat the suburban mom she felt herself slowly becoming, when the phone began to ring. She snatched it from the nightstand, pausing long enough to see that it was Edison calling, and put the phone to her ear as she took a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Hi, baby. How's your trip?"

"Hey Liv. It's going pretty well. I might have to stay a couple of days longer than I planned; until the end of the week." He sounded tired and she figured he was probably just waking up, since it was three hours behind on the West Coast. Mostly he sounded unsure, anticipating Olivia's reaction.

"Edison, you promised you would be home for Avi's dance recital."

"I know, Olivia."

"And I'm supposed to meet with my publisher on Thursday," she continued, beginning to sound exasperated.

"I _know_, Olivia."

"And the basement wall still has that leak that you insisted on fixing yourself so you wouldn't have to pay –"

"Dammit, Olivia, I know! I know all of that. But I am working to provide for you and our kids and my job is very demanding. Are you telling me you can't handle things around the house for a few more days while I'm hard at work?"

"Don't you dare turn this around on me, Edison. I work too, and I also take care of the kids, and you are _always_ at work. We held off on having kids so you could establish yourself at the firm and work less when we started a family and it feels like you're working more and more."

She could hear him sigh heavily through the phone and pictured him rubbing his temples in frustration at her. "I'm sorry if you feel like I've been working too much but you know we're about to gain one of our biggest accounts and if I get to be the person that signs them it could mean so much for us, for our future." She felt herself begin to soften at his words when he began to speak again. "And the whole reason you even do that writing crap is so you can have more free time to spend with the kids."

The rage that rose in Olivia consumed her wholly, rising quickly to the top as she exploded into the phone. "That _crap_ is my job, Edison, and it's my passion, and to hell with you and your client. Stay in San Diego forever, see if I fucking care." His reply was cut off as she ended the call and angrily pitched the phone across the room where it landed in the laundry hamper.

A soft whimper could be heard from the door and Olivia looked up to see her children standing in the doorway, clutching each other's hands and looking absolutely heartbroken. She had sat them in front of the television but they always came to check on her, to make sure she was in fact getting dressed. Connor's bottom lip was quivering and he was losing a struggle to hold back tears. Olivia silently beckoned them to come closer and they moved tentatively to the bed where she gathered them both in her arms, letting Connor settle in her lap while Avery tucked herself under Olivia's arm.

"I'm sorry, _mes petits choux_. I'm so sorry you heard that," Olivia whispered, planting a soft kiss on both children's heads.

Avery sniffed loudly and lifted her head to look at her mother with wide, misty eyes. "Miranda's daddy moved away and said he was never coming back. Is our daddy not gonna come back?"

"Of course he's coming back. Your daddy loves you both very much and he would never leave you."

"What about you?" Avery inquired, her nose beginning to run.

"I would never leave you either," Olivia said, almost offended.

"No, I mean, would he leave you?"

Olivia swallowed and gave them both another kiss before setting them back on the floor. "Nobody's going anywhere, alright? Now, why don't you two go clean up the playroom while Mommy finishes getting ready and then we can leave?"

Both children nodded happily, the earlier events already forgotten at the promise of going somewhere soon, and sped out of the room. Olivia fell back onto the bed, already tired and ready to crawl back under the covers. She buried her face in one of the pillows and shouted loudly before standing back up to compose herself and get dressed. Perhaps splattering paint with her kids was just the outlet she needed to get through the week.

* * *

As Olivia pulled into the parking space and turned off her car, she was mentally calculating a route to the building the class was being held in. She examined the flyer, ripped up and crayon stained from the bottom of Avery's backpack, that announced a special, one day painting class for kids ages one to five that was being taught by some award winning painter who was now a professor at Georgetown. It was a Saturday so the campus was mostly empty, but it was cold and her kids were getting antsy in the backseat. Navigating the grounds was easy enough as it was her alma mater, but with them in tow it could easily be considered an Olympic event.

She turned around to face them and gave her best 'don't try me' face. "I'm going to get the stroller and we are going to move quickly and quietly, do you understand me?" They nodded in assent, excited smiles spreading across their faces. Olivia moved quickly around the car, strapping Connor in his stroller with one while holding Avery the explorer in one place. She saw a couple of other families mulling over maps and consulting smartphones but she was familiar with the building; she had taken a couple of classes in it and it was where the office of her favorite professor, Cyrus Beene, had been.

When they arrived at the small classroom there were a few people already settled in and some coming in behind them. Olivia found a seat in the center, near the front of the class and began to settle Connor and Avery on opposite sides of her. There was a spread in front of them consisting of jars of paint, brushes of various sizes, chalk, pastels and a large stack of paper and Olivia was grateful she had dressed the kids down as she swatted their hands away from the supplies.

"Hello there, everyone, and welcome. We all look like we're ready to get down to business so I won't talk for too long."

The deep and lustrous voice rang throughout the classroom and hit Olivia like a ton of bricks. She was facing Avery and as she slowly turned her head to the front of the classroom she was praying under her breath that two people in the world had the same sexy voice and she had the dumb luck to meet them one day after the other. Her prayers were in vain, she realised, when she found herself eye to eye with Fitz. He noticed her immediately and gave her a small smile before continuing his opening spiel.

"My name is Fitz Grant and I am the newly appointed head of the art department here. I'm sure you all are wondering why a college professor is holding an art class for small children and the answer is very simple: There isn't enough exposure to the arts in our schools. So I've decided to take matters into my own hands and reach out to future artists before they make the mistake I almost did of going into a field they had no interest in and spending the rest of their lives being miserable. And no one can produce art like a child who has yet to have their imaginations stifled by society. As Picasso said, 'All children are artists. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.' Alright, I'll shut my mouth now and let you all get started. I'm going to move around the room while you work and give you some pointers."

After some light applause he began to walk towards where the "students" were seated and Olivia held her breath until he walked right past her and to the back of the classroom. She helped the kids get set up, putting a few sheets of paper in front of them and giving them each a few supplies, and was brushed away when she tried to help them further. For lack of anything better to do she grabbed her own piece of paper and a few crayons and began to scribble absentmindedly, her whole body acutely aware of where Fitz was standing at all times as he moved around the class, stopping to speak with each child. Though she had majored in English, Olivia had taken many an art class and she tried to remember the techniques she had learned and she soon relaxed into her drawing, scribbling a few basic shapes amidst crooked fruit and eerie trees.

"Someone has really immersed themselves in their artwork."

Olivia jumped a bit in her seat at the sound of his voice so close to her and turned to tell him she was only doodling when she noticed that he was not looking at her but at Avery, who had dipped her tiny fingers into the paint and smeared it onto her clothes and hair. She beamed proudly at her handiwork and moved to wipe her hands on her shirt.

"Oh my goodness, don't do that," Olivia whispered harshly, grabbing the girl's wrists in her hand to keep her from causing any further damage. In reality she felt like a horrible mother, letting her unprecedented and superficial crush on a stranger keep her from watching her kids. She surreptitiously glanced at Connor – he was viciously scribbling away with some colored pencils but mostly clean – and turned back to Avery.

Fitz kneeled down beside Avery and began to shuffle through the paper she had managed to get paint on. "You shouldn't stifle her creativity like that. Kids will get messy. And she's doing a great job. These paintings are really emotional." He looked at Avery and flashed his charming smile and Olivia could tell from the way her daughter smiled back that she was immediately taken with the stranger, making her feel somewhat better about her own infatuation. "What made you draw these, sweetie?"

"Mommy and Daddy were fighting this morning and _ow_." Avery turned to her mother and opened her mouth as if to shout but was immediately silenced by Olivia's gaze. She turned back to the table and folded her arms, her lip poked out dramatically.

Fitz chuckled lightly and Olivia felt the sound pool in her lower stomach. _What the hell, even his laugh is sexy? You've got to be kidding me._

"Well," he said, rising and coming to stand directly in front of Olivia, "if painting isn't her thing she definitely has a future in acting. And what is this little guy working on?"

"Koalas," Connor announced proudly, never looking up from his task. "I only do koalas."

Catching the look inquisitive Fitz shot her, Olivia explained, "He's always loved koalas. No one really knows why. They're just his 'thing'."

"It's always good to have a thing. And what about you?"

The errant thought ran through Olivia's mind, _I have a thing for you_, but he noticed the curious expression she wore and questioned, "What are you drawing?"

"Oh," she muttered, blushing, though she knew he could not hear her thoughts despite the fact that he was gazing at her like he knew her deepest secrets. It was disconcerting and making her warm in all the wrong places but it felt oh so right. She tugged at her collar like it was choking her when it fell just below her collarbones, and this realisation made her suddenly feel like it was too revealing. It was almost embarrassing to be acting so foolish in front of her children but thankfully they were again immersed in their artwork.

She finally found her voice and replied, "It's nothing really. Just some doodles."

He picked up the paper, studying it intensely. "These look like more than doodles. They're very technically correct. You must have taken a class at some point; that or you're an undiscovered prodigy."

"I did; take a class that is. Here, in fact."

He looked absolutely thrilled at that. "Then you must have had Cyrus."

Olivia felt herself relaxing and her features shifting into a smile mirroring his. "Cyrus Beene was my absolute favorite professor. He was really the only reason I took any art classes, since it wasn't my field. But he made it very interesting."

Fitz nodded excitedly. "Yes he's very passionate about art and he definitely has a way of making you feel the same way."

Bereft of things to say, Olivia simply let the moment draw out as they watched each other for a few seconds. A child's voice rang out from the back of the class, summoning the teacher, and Fitz tilted his head at her with an apologetic smile before taking two steps in that direction. He paused and raised a hand as if remembering something and turned back to her.

"There are some wipes on my desk if you need to clean up, but I imagine you've already got that covered." Then he walked off again.

The remainder of the class, following the wipe down and muted lecture Olivia gave to her daughter, went off without a hitch and before they knew it, Fitz was announcing that he was expecting students in the class in a short while. Parents gathered diaper bags and opened strollers and wiped hands, moving with the expertise and lackadaisicalness of people who had done these maneuvers countless times before. The children were beginning to get restless and every adult in the room was looking forward to the naps they would all be taking upon arriving home. As Olivia was collecting stacks of semi dried paintings and keeping her kids from picking with other she was once again taken by surprise when Fitz came up behind her, this time putting a gentle hand on her back to get her attention. She whirled around quickly, instinctively taking a step back from the contact.

"Sorry about that. I'm always startling you."

It was not the surprise of his touch that had made her jump, but the current of electricity that ran through her body. It had been the second time they had touched and even though her shirt was acting as a somewhat thin barrier between their skin, the feeling was just as powerful as the first time. Plenty of people had touched her in much more intimate ways than that throughout her lifetime but none had made her feel like Fitz's touch did. She wanted nothing more than to believe it was all in her head, that this all stemmed from the idealistic version of him she had created in her mind, but a very irritating and honest part of her would not let her accept that reasoning. It was him, plain and simple. There was something so very different about him and a part of her wanted to explore this connection and see where it might stem from but she also knew that if she delved deeper into it there was a slim chance of her coming back from it.

The conflicting emotions she was wrestling with were evident on her face and when Fitz saw she had no reply, he started speaking again. "I was just wondering how your writing is going."

Olivia registered shock at his question, because she had only mentioned briefly that she was a writer and had never said she was currently working on anything, and because people rarely asked about her writing. To most of the people in her life it was a hobby and a trifle and secondary to any and everything.

"I know," he continued, "you never said you were working on anything but writing is just another form of art and I can tell when another artist is in the middle of an important project. You looked kind of stressed out yesterday."

"Uh, yeah," she finally managed. "I've got a pretty big deadline coming up but I haven't had much time to get any work done. It's just been me and the kids and it's practically impossible to write with two little ones." She gestured to Avery and Connor behind her, who were inebriated by sleepiness and getting silly.

He nodded understandingly and Olivia found herself wondering if he had kids. He worked so well with them and he was definitely older than her, but he also drove a sports car that did not scream carpools and sippy cups. She then realised that she knew much less about this man than he seemed to know about her. "How about if you get a minute one day, we can meet up over coffee and I can help you out with it?" He held out a business card and gave her a sheepish look.

It was wildly inappropriate, and he knew it as well. Olivia immediately recognised that it was the wrong thing to do but it was her chance to have a real conversation with him without paint covered kids or the raucous sounds of cars on a highway. It was her chance to see exactly why this man made her whole body ignite with pleasure and passion. It was not a chance she was willing to give up. For first the first time since she had encountered this enigma of a man, she did something without hesitation. She snagged the card from his outstretched hand and returned his warm and expectant smile.

"I'll call you."

* * *

**A/N: I was so happy to hear you all like the story because I've got so many ideas and I can't type nearly fast enough. Your reviews really meant a lot! A lot of you liked that it's different and that was the whole reason I decided to give it a go, so I'm glad you all took to the idea.**

**So we got to hear from Edison, and yes, all is definitely not right in the Pope/Davis household. I'm trying to not completely mirror the dynamic of the show but I do want to keep some aspects the same so their relationship won't be perfect at all, which we'll explore a little more later on. And we got to see Fitz again (seriously, did anyone see that coming? I was up all night trying to come up with something super surprising), and there is the promise of him and Olivia meeting up again. Soon? We'll see. I can't give all my secrets away.**

**Again, tell me what you all think and what you're looking forward to. Your feedback not only encourages me but makes me think about the direction things will be going in. xo**


	3. Chapter 3

Hopeful. Fitz needed a color that meant hopeful. Something bright and cheerful that radiated the promise of things to come. There was an endless row of tubes of paint in front of him but none of them seemed to express how he felt about his possible upcoming meeting with Olivia. He was not exactly sure what he should be hoping for; she was married and she seemed happy and she had two beautiful children but none of that stopped him from hoping. The longer he thought about the subject the less he was sure the canvas he was preparing to enrich should be positive. There was every chance he would go home with his heart crushed, or that she would not call him at all and had simply taken the card to get him to leave her alone. But he had always been headstrong, according to his mother, and was discordant with even his own thoughts.

He quickly selected a bright shade of dandelion yellow and squeezed some onto his palette.

Getting lost in his art was always very easy and as he made large, sweeping strokes with his brush Fitz quickly fell into a trance. Once he knew where he was going with something he did not have to think about it; he often felt the brush was telling him what to do because when he became lucid again he would marvel at the work in front of him. Not because it was good, necessarily, but because his artwork always conveyed some deeper meaning of which even he was not immediately aware. He often felt he was wielding a power he did not deserve but would use to the best of his ability and always with the intention of helping others. Occasionally he would paint something for his eyes alone, if only to work through whatever was happening in his life at that moment. His home studio was replete with canvases covered in paint splattered white tarps and they all represented a significant moment: the day his brother had died, when his father claimed to disown him, the day he had discovered his girlfriend of some years was pregnant, the night she had shown up at his house in the dead of the night only to reveal the baby was not his…

Fitz rarely felt that happy moments deserved an entire work of art dedicated to them because he had never been so elated, so filled with joy that it moved him to cover a 36"x48" canvas. Those other instances had consumed him with such emotion that his only option had been to furiously splatter paint at every feasible surface. But this painting that he had since come to dedicate to Olivia and the mere idea of her presence was hopeful, and though it was not happiness it was certainly not rage or depression. Was it possible to love someone you had only just met so much that you let them change your entire outlook on life? The notion simultaneously excited and terrified him.

The shrill ringing of a phone in another room lifted the spell the artwork had cast on Fitz and he jumped a bit at the sound. He often got so entranced in his work he would forget that a whole world existed outside of him and the paintbrush and the canvas in front of him. With a brief glance at what he had done so far he decided to answer the phone, knowing he would not be able to get back in his zone right away. He set his equipment down and wiped his hands on his pants before moving swiftly out of the room, grabbing the phone on the hall table. He glimpsed that it was his parents number and automatically said in greeting, "Hi, Mom."

"Hello Fitzy, darling, did I catch you at a bad time?" she trilled and he wondered how many glasses of wine she had already had waiting for his father to get home.

"No, no. How are you?"

"Oh you're lying, you were working on something. You forget how well I know you dear. But it means the world that you love your old mother enough to stop what you're doing for her. I'm absolutely furious and would you like to know why? That damned Betsy – you remember her, from the ladies club – has been going on and on about how amazing her son is because he's a surgeon and if I have to listen to her for one more second I'll scream. We get it, your kid went to medical school, but you know I heard from Eliza that he cheated on one of those tests and…"

Normally Fitz would have been happy to listen to his mother go on and on about the women she called friends (a beloved hobby of the rich) because there was no one else around for her to talk to. His father was always at work or the cigar club and his brother had been out of the picture for years before they got word of his death. Sometimes he could even get a laugh from her tales, but usually he would chuckle at how absolutely ridiculous she sounded. That night, however, he was so distracted by his own confusing emotions he could barely muster up the energy to make a noise of agreement every time she paused after an unnecessarily loud "Am I right?"

"Fitz! You're not listening to me at all, are you?"

"Wha- Of course I am, Mom."

"Well then what did I say?"

He felt like a child again, caught in a lie by his mother as he muttered, "Something about the…thing at the club and, um, your hair."

His mother made a loud and dramatic noise and he could picture her putting a hand to her head like she was about to faint. "Alright, I get it, you're a grown man and you've got things to do. I won't be in your hair anymore."

"Stop it, Mom," he said, getting a bit irritated. She loved to guilt him into doing things because he had always been a big mama's boy. "I'm sorry; I'm just a bit distracted tonight."

"Ooh, something interesting happen? Tell Mama all about it."

He considered telling her to shove off, in a much more respectful and calm way, but he figured he could give her a few vague details on his predicament. "I met a woman…" He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Before he had spoken the last syllable she had launched into a series of questions.

"Where did you meet her? What's she like? Beautiful, I bet. What does she do? Is she a Capricorn because I was reading your horoscope the other day and it said that you should probably stay away from Capricorns? Did you ask her out? Have you already been out?"

"Breathe, Mom. Calm down. It's not like that. I mean, she's an amazing woman: smart, beautiful, sweet. I don't have a chance in hell, though."

"Nonsense, Fitzy. Any woman would be more than lucky to have you. I made sure of it. She's probably just playing hard to get. I hear that's what the girls are doing nowadays."

"If that's the case she's doing a damn good job of it," he mumbled, more to himself, and continued into the phone before his mother could reply, "It's not that simple."

"Listen here, dear, things are only as complicated as you make them. If you really care about this woman – and you must because I don't think a girl has ever had you so enraptured you would ignore your own mother – then you'll find a way. And if it's not meant to be, you'll be heartbroken for a while but you'll get back up because there's someone out there for you Fitzy. You really are a wonderful man, with a lot of help from yours truly, and you deserve a wonderful woman. Not like that crazy witch you used to bring around here. I swear you wanted to give your poor mother a heart attack, trying to bring a baby into this world unwed."

After talking his mother down from her oncoming tirade and getting through a few more customary complaints, he was finally relinquished from the call.

As he moved back into his studio and began to add a few more colors to his palette, a whole new idea forming in his mind, he knew his mother was absolutely right. If it was true love, it was meant to be. It was a fairy tale notion but Fitz had always believed it. If she called and they met up again it could be a way for him to explore the possibility and see where it took him. A nagging part of him felt truly awful for even considering being with Olivia, especially when he thought about her kids. Briefly he considered the possibility of not pursuing any kind of relationship with her and going about his life as if he had never known she even existed, but the mere thought made his heart ache.

How cruel was the universe that it could put this woman in front of him – who was everything he had ever wanted in a woman – and tell him not to touch?

He roughly seized a tube of charcoal grey paint and overzealously squeezed onto the palette, directly over the yellow.

* * *

The rest of the weekend went off without a hitch which was always good when there are two small children involved but for Olivia it only meant more time to think. She tried throwing herself into her writing but the thoughts swarming throughout her brain were murky and fell just out of her grasp, driving her to frustration. In many fruitless attempts to distract herself she prepared a meal for every day of the next week, read aloud to Avery and Connor until they simply refused to stay put any longer, constructed a do-it-yourself bird house from a kit she had found in storage, and did her Insanity workout DVD until her legs could not maneuver the steps. At one point she considered dyeing her hair, just for something else to do and in vain hope that the chemicals would jar something within her. She was too afraid to leave the house because it seemed no matter where she went she was destined to run into Fitz.

Monday mornings were always a madhouse, as with all weekdays. She had to get both kids ready and try to make herself look presentable so she could drop Avery off at school. Her daughter was smart as a whip but hated going to school with a passion, so every morning involved a temper tantrum from the moment she awakened to the second she stepped into the classroom and was distracted by a toy or drawing. Connor, not one to be outdone by his big sister, had to prove he could shout louder and throw himself harder, so Olivia would have two screaming, crying, flailing kids to drag through their morning routine. Despite the volume and the difficulties of dressing the two, it was a viable distraction from the goings on in her head and every step she took closer to dropping Connor off at his day care center was a step closer to her being alone with her thoughts.

With less than zero options left and Fitz's business card burning a hole in her wallet, she called her sister and invited her over, offering free food and a child free environment. Lauryn was pulling up twenty minutes later and they quickly settled in on the couch, Olivia sitting with her feet on the ottoman and Lauryn sitting cross ways, her legs across her sister's lap.

"Are you gonna tell me why you called me here, Liv?"

"To hang out. We never just hang out anymore. I miss you."

"Right, okay, and we didn't just talk two days ago or anything. Is that what this is about? Are you still tripping over this alleged perfect specimen of a man who may or may not have been a mirage?"

Olivia rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "I'm not tripping over anything," she uttered. "And he wasn't a mirage, who has a mirage on the side of the highway in southern Maryland?"

"Obviously he wasn't like a desert mirage because you're plenty hydrated but you're obviously super thirsty. I mean, let's be real, sister to sister, when was the last time Edison really turned you out? I mean like, made your toes curl and had you screaming bloody murder?"

"Lauryn," Olivia gasped. She had always been the more reserved of the two, and her older sister was not so much outspoken as she just had no verbal filter. "I'm not even going to justify that with an answer because it is inappropriate and none of your damn business."

Her sister shook her head, sucking her teeth. "You don't need to answer me Olivia. I already know the answer. There's no way that man has let you have it real good because he hasn't been in the same state as you long enough to achieve anything in the last month. When are you just going to stand your ground and tell that man he can't go a damn place until he performs some husbandly duties first? And I'm not just talking about the sex; when was the last time he held one of those kids?"

Olivia bit her lip and looked away, searching for something interesting enough to feign staring at. She hated discussing her marriage more than anything because there was rarely anything to discuss. Edison traveled too often, yes, but it was his job and she had married him knowing that was what it would entail. Of course she wished he could be around more to help out around the house and do…what? She had never felt a burning passion for this man, had never stayed up at night fraught with worry over him or daydreamed about holding him while they were apart. She loved him as a husband and the father of her children but she couldn't remember a time she had truly loved _Edison_, the man. Everyone had been so excited at their wedding that no one had noticed Olivia silently brooding in a corner, plotting an escape route through the back of the church. Lauryn had given her a questioning look but had not dared to say a thing in front of their mother. The sad smile Olivia gave in return only affirmed what both sisters knew, that there was no way out of it at that late in the game. On her wedding day, Olivia's most positive thought was, _I can make the best of this._

"Liv, don't make that sad face. I didn't mean to upset you but maybe that's what you need. I understand what you're going through. We all have that point in our marriage when we start to have second thoughts about the whole thing but you made a commitment. Which I guess wouldn't be so bad but you have to take into account the fact that there are two little lives you and Edison are responsible for. You can't just run away with the first guy to give you sexy eyes because you have the kids to think of."

Olivia let out a sound between a yell and whine, tossing her head back. "I know. I know, I know, I know all of that. All I want is to make my marriage work, and to be a happy wife and mother. I'm not having second thoughts. I don't have a bag packed in the bottom of my closet. It's just a frustrating time in my life and this guy comes alone and he makes everything so complicated."

Lauryn cocked her head to the side, observing her sister's profile with a curious look. "I think I see what's happening here, Liv, so I'm going to give you a little warning. Just stay away from this guy. If you really feel this way about him after two conversations there's no way in hell going any further into it could end well for your family. Just forget about all of this and worry about fixing what you do have, alright?" She leaned forward and wrapped Olivia in her arms. "I love you, baby sister, and I don't want to see you unhappy. The sooner you forget about him, the better off you'll be."

Olivia rested her head on her sister's shoulder, fighting off tears. She tried to tell herself that she was only getting emotional because everything Lauryn was saying was true, and she did need to work on her marriage. But if the wrenching pain she felt in her chest was any indication, she knew it was really the thought of never seeing Fitz again that made her future seem bleak. The thought of telling her sister this seemed ridiculous so she let Lauryn assume it was the former as Olivia buried her face in her big sister's shoulder and began to sob.

* * *

**A/N: Two steps forward, one step back. Will Olivia listen to the wise words of her big sister? Well that wouldn't make for a very good story. I promise everyone will be happy by the end of this but I am the queen of angst and everything has to go downhill before it can go up so bear with me. The journey will be rocky but there will be plenty of good things ahead.**

**I feel like I'm spoiling my readers by updating so quickly but as long as the thoughts are flowing I'm going to get them out and give them to you guys. Things are kind of slow around here right now and there's no good reason to hold back if the chapter is ready, I figure. I'll try to keep updating fairly quickly but to give you a fair warning it won't always be this quick. I definitely won't abandon this fic though.**

**It means _so _much that you guys are enjoying this story and your enthusiasm is encouraging me! You're all absolutely lovely. Keep reading and reviewing. Oh, and happy almost-Thursday! xo**


	4. Chapter 4

With the kids in school all day and Edison not due back until Friday Olivia did everything short of strapping herself to the desk chair to get focused on her writing. Her meeting with her publisher was the next day and she needed to have at least sixty pages done by then, a far cry from the sixteen she was staring at. The frustration was eating at her as she paced around her office, pausing every so often to put her face in her hands and groan loudly. She was at the point where everything she had written so far seemed like trash and it was discouraging her from continuing. She took one last lap and threw herself into the chair, letting it swivel with the force.

An annoyingly redundant voice had been in her head all day, coaxing her to do the one thing she wanted to do the most. Coincidentally, it was the one thing she had no business even thinking about. Meeting Fitz, even thinking about him could not positively have a positive outcome. Olivia was already so enamored by him that she was sure any further contact between the two would lead down a road from which there was no return. She was constantly replaying Lauryn's words from the other day, repeating them to herself any time she felt the urge to retrieve his business card from the bottom of her purse.

_But what harm could be done from asking him for a bit of advice, one artist to another_, she thought unconvincingly. _Tremendous harm. Irreparable harm. A lifetime of regret and pain and resentment from my family._

_And the same thing could happen if you don't go._

It was a never ending cycle of thought that plagued her. Damned if she did, damned if she didn't because as difficult as it was to understand, Fitz had persistently claimed a spot in her thoughts. She wondered if he was feeling the same way, if he was sitting by the phone waiting for her call, or if he had gone about his own life and she as simply an afterthought to him. Would he care whether or not she called?

Olivia was tired of the constant inner battle. She was tired of mapping outcomes from point A to Z. Her entire life she had meticulously planned every detail of everything she wanted to do and she was tired of it. For once she wanted to go out and do something without thinking about it. She had never had a chance to explore the possibilities of life outside of the suburbs because she had married Edison so soon out of college. While in school she had compiled a list of all the places she wanted to travel and the things she had wanted to do before settling down and he had nipped those in the bud almost immediately. Olivia was constantly lamenting the fact that she had not had the life of spontaneity she dreamed of as a girl. If she met Fitz and caught feelings for him – real feelings, based on concrete knowledge and not the butterflies she got in her stomach at the sight of him – she could walk away. It would not be easy, and it might even hurt her for a while, but she was a grown woman and she had self-control. She did love her husband just as he loved her; in their own special way. She was not going to cheat on him. It was not an option, not something she could see herself being able to do. After asserting this a few times to herself, she reached her hand into her purse and drew Fitz's business card from the bottom. It was bent and crayon stained but legible and it shook with her fingers as she dialed the number and pressed the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

His voice was as fluid and sedative as she recalled, perhaps even more so as he sounded like the phone had awakened him. Hearing him simultaneously calmed her nerves and set her heart thundering more rapidly in her chest.

"Hi." There was no reply and it took Olivia a moment to realise that she had not told him who it was and she opened her mouth to clarify when he spoke again.

"Hi. This is Olivia, right?"

"Ah, yeah. How did you know?"

He chuckled lightly and she could hear him shifting around. "I would recognise that beautiful voice anywhere."

"Oh." She flushed and was grateful he could not see her. Even over the phone he had the same adverse effects on her. She was beginning to rethink her decision. "I was calling because you said if I ever wanted to go out I should call you. I mean, go out to talk about my writing."

"And you want to go out? To talk about your writing, that is."

She swallowed. "Yes," she said quietly, not sure if that was her final answer.

"There's this place on 14th street, I could meet you there in about an hour?"

"Alright, I can do that," she replied after a quick glance at her watch.

"Fantastic. I look forward to it. See you then." He gave her a few more specific details on the location before Olivia hung up and leaned back in her chair, draping her arm across her face.

_Well you've done it now Olivia_, she thought bitterly. _You better hope you've got all of that willpower you were so keen to exercise_.

* * *

The café Fitz had chosen was his absolute favorite, the only place he would go to 'hand out' since he had moved to the city. It was the kind of place artists came to hang out and work so it was quiet enough to focus but there was always the buzz of hushed conversation in the background. The furniture was an eclectic mix of pieces from different eras and styles and in a slew of colors that would have been tacky had they been anywhere else. It was cozy and warm and made him feel at home. Not his home, of course, because growing up he had been surrounded by paintings one would expect to find in a museum and Oriental rugs and dark polished wood from floor to ceiling that gave the place an eerie and haunting feeling. The café made him feel like he belonged.

The cup of coffee he had ordered was quickly going cold in front of him as he toyed with the stirrer, his eyes darting between the swirling liquid and the door. He had arrived a bit early because his apartment was not far away but he regretted it with every passing second that she did not walk through the door. Olivia sounded hesitant to him on the phone and he was harboring a fear that she had decided to stay home and was just too scared to call and tell him. So when she stepped through the door, dazzling in a cornflower blue sweater and dark jeans that displayed her figure without being tight, he was pleasantly surprised.

Olivia stood in the doorway a while she searched for him, taking a few apprehensive steps forward. He watched as she began to venture further towards him, clutching a stack of papers to her chest protectively and her eyes still scanning the room for him. He was about to stand up and wave when she saw him and made her way to his table at the back of the room.

Fitz rose quickly and helped her out of her coat, placing it neatly on the back of the chair he then pulled out for her.

"Thank you." Olivia tried to avoid watching Fitz too intensely by looking anywhere else as he returned to his seat and studied her closely. Every so often she would nibble on her bottom lip and furtively glance around the room. Her nose was still red from the cold and her hair a bit disheveled from the wind and Fitz thought she looked positively adorable but chased the thoughts away as she finally turned to look him in the eye.

"Before we get to work," she emphasized, "I'd just like to warm up with some tea."

He nodded knowingly and flagged down a waitress to come take Olivia's order of ginger peach tea. The steaming cup arrived within seconds and Olivia went to work, squeezing the lemon the restaurant supplied into the cup and adding a bit of honey. For good measure she tore a couple of sugar packets open and dumped them in before stirring the tea and taking a small sip. When she deemed it perfect she set the cup down to cool and sat back in the chair, looking up to see Fitz regarding her with a small grin.

"What's so funny?" She meant to sound playful and nonchalant but it came out sounding concerned.

"Nothing; I wasn't laughing at you. You just…remind me of someone." Fitz found this excuse far more innocuous than what he was really thinking, which was her making tea in his kitchen in the wee hours of the morning. She seemed to pick up on the way he unintentionally laced his words with alternate meaning and she quickly tried to redirect his attention, sliding the stack of papers towards him. Instead of reading, however, Fitz gave it a once over and nudged it to the side.

Olivia lifted an eyebrow at him. "Don't you want to read it?"

"I will, I just thought it would be nice to talk a bit first." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and settling his face in his hands, and regarded her closely. "You intrigue me, Ms.…" he trailed off and glanced at the cover of the manuscript in front of him, "Pope."

"Mrs.," she corrected quickly.

"Of course," he replied with a smirk. "How could I forget about that lucky man? And how is Mr. Pope? Still out of town?"

"Yes, he is. And his last name is Davis."

"So Pope is your maiden name?"

"No, it's my last name," she said sternly. "It's the one I was born with and I don't think I should have to give it up."

He laughed lightly. "You're absolutely right. I don't know a lot of guys who would be okay with that so it's good your husband is so supportive."

The slight shifting of her eyes was not lost on him, nor was the fidgety way she began to toy with the empty sugar packets in front of her. "Yeah, he's a…good husband. Are you married?"

"No, I didn't get so lucky. I guess I'm a bit of an optimist, which is often a dangerous thing to be. I've always had this image of the perfect woman and no one ever lived up to the expectations. Sometimes I figure I could settle and learn to be content but it would never be enough. I shouldn't have to sacrifice my ideal life because I'm too impatient or afraid. That I learned when I decided to become an artist instead of following in my father's footsteps and taking over his company. He was furious and he still resents me for it but I think he's come to terms with the fact that I'm a grown man and he doesn't have much say."

Olivia was taken aback by the personal turn in their conversation but the level of comfort Fitz displayed put her at ease. He was telling her things one would not tell most people they had just met but he had known for some time this woman was not like the other people in his life. She was genuine in her interest at hearing about his life and he was equally as curious to hear about her. Fitz knew that she would never offer any information to him because she was keeping herself at a polite distance and he could not blame her. Whatever semblance of a friendship they had, however juvenile, was by that time becoming increasingly tricky. He was drawn to her like a moth to a light – a beautiful and radiant light – and, correspondingly, was likely to get burned pursuing her. But when she looked up at him through those thick eyelashes, her lips parted ever so slightly as she listened intently to everything he had to say, Fitz could not bring himself to give a damn about the ramifications.

When he finished his own tale he did not allow for a lull in the conversation, instead turning it around so she was the focus. "Here I am asking about you and I go on about myself. I really do want to hear about you. And I promise I'll get to reading as soon as you give me something to work with. I feel like I can assist you more effectively with your writing if I know a little about you and where you're coming from."

"Okay," Olivia bit out slowly, growing uncomfortable as the conversation shifted to focus on her. "Is there something specific you'd like to know?"

_Everything_ was the reply he wanted to give but it was vague and would only send her hastening back into the shell she was only beginning to tentatively peek out of. He could nearly see her trembling with the effort to hold back from him, a battle he was greatly familiar with.

"Do you have a nickname?"

A look of confusion crossed her face and he knew the question was far reaching but he had nothing to lose. _Nothing to gain, either_.

"Some people call me Liv. When I was really little my mom called me Libby. But nowadays I'm mostly just Olivia, or Mommy."

"What's your favorite color?"

"Is this some kind of survey?"

"Indulge me," he said simply, splaying his hands.

She regarded carefully him for a moment but sighed in mock defeat. In all honesty she wanted nothing more than to go somewhere quiet with him and tell him anything he wanted to know about her, and she wanted to soak up anything he would tell her. Olivia figured she would be content to sit in silence with him and just exist because he made her feel cherished in a way no one ever had. Not even Edison had cared enough to ask her these things, usually assuming or avoiding needing the information altogether. Olivia gave herself a mental kick, a warning to the dangers of comparing Fitz to her husband.

Despite willing herself to draw back a bit she could not stifle the coy smile that played at her lips. "Fine. I guess it would have to be purple, or lavender to be exact, since you are a painter."

"Do you prefer summer or winter weather?"

"Definitely spring."

"What's your favorite dessert?"

"Coffee ice cream," she responded quickly. "And tiramisu…and red velvet cake." Olivia bit her lip again and Fitz felt his pants tighten. "I have a bit of a sweet tooth. What about you?"

"I love a classic apple pie." Fitz placed his hands flat on the table and leaned forward a bit and she followed his lead, involuntarily pitching her body towards him.

They continued in that manner for some time, asking and answering, the awkwardness of their encounter fading rapidly. The inquiries were outwardly harmless but underlying their exchange was a flirtatious tone and a hunger to learn more about the other, however banal the information. To Olivia and Fitz each new revelation was a shiny new tidbit to hoard and never forget, a small piece of something both wanted but neither could have.

"Where's your favorite place to travel?"

"France; especially the Mediterranean." Fitz had asked the last few questions so she continued, trying to gain some leverage in the discussion he was so clearly leading. "Did you have any childhood pets?"

The topic struck something within him and Olivia immediately regretted saying anything. His eyes flashed with the heartbreaking expression of a child hurt by someone they trusted and she wondered what memory he was reliving in the burdensome silence that followed. Before she could rescind the inquiry he began to speak.

"I had a dog. An Airedale terrier, named Velma." He sounded wistful as his eyes glazed over and Olivia smiled slightly with him at the memory. "She was my mom's originally but when I was born she really took to me and we became inseparable. When I was about ten I came home one day and she was nowhere to be seen. My mom was devastated and we looked everywhere for her but no one had seen her." His expression began to darken. "I didn't find this out until a couple of years later but my dad, who couldn't go a day without a drink to save his life, let her out one night and passed out before he could let her back in. There were a lot of coyotes in the area then… My dad knew about it the whole time and pretended to help us look for her."

Fitz had not noticed he was tightly gripping the tablecloth until he felt something soft and warm lightly touch his hand. His muscles slackened one by one as Olivia threaded her fingers through his, tossing caution to the wind in favor of consoling him. The familiar jolt ran through them both, setting the air around them alight with a charge so potent they were surprised no one else took notice. It was not as shocking as the first few times they had fleetingly touched, and once the feeling settled over them it had a strangely mollifying effect. When Fitz had finally composed himself enough to dare to look up, their eyes connected immediately and Olivia would have snatched her hand away had he not applied a light pressure to her fingers and silently begged her not to move. The sheer emotion in his eyes excited her and she knew right away she was in much too deep; he reveled in the fact that everything he was feeling in that moment was being reflected back at him from the wide pools of brown he was already drowning in.

"It's stupid," he muttered, "and it's not even the worst thing my dad ever did."

"Fitz," she said with certainty and he perked up at once at the sound of his name on her lips, "it's not stupid. Someone you love and look up to let you down, and that's not easy to deal with, especially as a child." The moment was flawless and he did not dare correct her, inform her that he had never looked up to his father.

A harsh ringing sounded in their ears, seizing a moment they were desperate to prolong. Olivia gently pulled her hand from his, hesitant to break the contact while he was still so emotional, tore her eyes away from the deep grey ones and pulled the noisy culprit from her pocket.

"It's my alarm," she told him, silencing the phone and beginning to gather her things. "I've got to get the kids soon."

He nodded forlornly but managed a weak smile at her, their previous moment unforgotten but if she chose not to acknowledge it, he would comply. "Of course. And I feel so bad I didn't even get to help you with your writing. When are you supposed to meet with the publisher?"

Olivia suddenly remembered the whole purpose of meeting Fitz for the first time since they had begun talking and put her palm over her eyes. "It was supposed to be tomorrow but I'll probably be rescheduling _again_."

"Right, if you don't mind could I still take this home and look it over? If I think I can help I'll email you about it?" he inquired, indicating the forgotten document.

"Yeah, that would be nice," she replied, distractedly scribbling her email address in the margins of the text. Fitz stood to walk her out and they paused in the doorway, meeting each other's eyes in an intense stare that brought Olivia back to a moment she would be struggling to ignore as she returned to her life but was remiss to forget.

Fitz leaned towards her so that his lips were inches from her ear, both an effort to be heard over the din of the street that had permeated their silent connection and to be closer to her. "Livi," he breathed and she noticeably shivered at his choice of nickname and the way his voice made her want to melt into him then and there. "I look forward to reading your work. And maybe seeing you again?"

His proximity had stolen the breath – as well as any semblance of coherency – from her and she managed a stiff nod before hurrying out onto the sidewalk and disappearing into the crowd. Fitz smiled at her receding figure before returning to the table and after summoning the waitress to refill his coffee, he leaned back in the chair and propped his feet up on Olivia's vacated seat to read what she had left for him.

* * *

As Olivia sat in the car, still parked with the engine running, she willed herself to take deep breaths. She willed herself to stop thinking about the cadence of Fitz's voice and the things she wished he could whisper in her ear. She struggled to focus on anything but the intensity of his gaze as he watched her answer his questions with an enthusiasm even she had not expected. She tried to erase the feeling of his hand intertwined with hers or how his gaze made her feel like the only person in a room. In giving Fitz a way to contact her and a reason and all but setting the time and place of their next encounter she had sealed her fate in a way she did not know how to undo. It was becoming increasingly clear that she was not going to be able to tell this man no, and even worse she was not sure that she wanted to.

* * *

**A/N: They meet again! Of course, this is 'their' story. And it's already becoming quite clear that they don't have the willpower or good sense to just stay away from each other. Love will make you do crazy things. But I'm getting ahead of myself, though it seems Olivia and Fitz are moving a bit fast. ****It's their third encounter but first real conversation and they learned a lot about each other. ****What do you guys think? Let me know in your reviews, as well as any other thoughts you're having because I do love hearing them. Next chapter will be more of a reality check, so until then. xo**


	5. Chapter 5

"Hello? Anybody home?"

Olivia stirred upon hearing the booming voice ring around the house, sitting up on the couch and rubbing sleep from her eyes. Avery and Connor, who had fallen asleep with her on the couch during a movie after dinner, leapt from her arms and took off in the direction of their father's voice. From the front of the house Olivia could hear them squealing with joy, now completely awake. She had only spoken to Edison once since their fight on Monday, a brief exchange to update him on the kids and try to needle an apology out of him but he seemed to be sticking to the idea that he had done nothing wrong. He had had the gall to seem shocked when Olivia snapped at him. Slowly she stretched and rose from the couch to join the rest of her family in the foyer.

Edison caught her entering the room from the corner of his eye and paused his roughhousing with the kids, leaving Connor poised in midair and Avery clinging to his leg. Olivia folded her arms and leaned against the wall, frowning at him.

"Hi, Olivia."

"They were asleep," she said shortly, "and now I'll never get them back down."

He lowered Connor to rest at his hip. "I'm sure they'll be just fine. Can I get a kiss from my wife?"

The crooked smile he gave her made her insides boil but she knew that he knew that she would never deny him in front of the kids. She was still worried they were harboring some uncertainties from hearing her yell at their father the other day and the last thing she wanted was to worry them any more than she already had. So with a bit of effort she plastered a stiff smile on her face and moved to stand directly in front of Edison, leaning forward until there was an imperceptible amount of space between their lips, but a space nonetheless.

"Hello, husband," she murmured sweetly, knowing he alone would catch the venom that laced her tone. "You must be exhausted after your long trip. Why don't you go get comfortable while I put the kids to bed? Then you and I can have a nice evening to ourselves."

As she expected the children were impossible to calm down and she spent forty minutes running between their rooms to get them to stay put in bed. It was almost midnight when they were both drifting off in their own beds, and Olivia took a moment to herself, wanting them to be sound asleep before she had her standoff with Edison so as not to have any interruptions. She tinkered around in the kitchen for a bit, having a glass of wine and a small snack, before retiring to her bedroom. Edison was already in bed, laying on top of the comforter, his back propped up against the headboard as he looked at something on his phone. Olivia avoided looking at him as she began to undress and change into sweatpants and a t-shirt. It was not until she exited the bathroom, her hair wrapped tightly, that she finally acknowledged him.

"Seriously? You just got back from your trip and you're working already?"

He groaned. "Please don't start this now. It's late and I'm tired."

"Not so tired you can't reply to a few emails," she snapped, moving to stand over him. "You're only ever too busy if it comes to doing something for your family."

"It's my _job_ Olivia."

"Your _job_ is to be the man of this house and a father to your children and a husband to me," she whispered harshly, struggling to control her volume. "But that's not a paying job so you couldn't care less about those things."

"Liv," he said, his tone warning her. "We're not getting into this again because you're obviously never going to be happy with what I have to say. You hate that I'm out of town so much and that my job requires my presence at odd hours but you know what? You would never have even married me had it not been for my job," he stated matter-of-factly.

She drew back from him, appalled. "How dare you?" she hissed. Edison had had high hopes when they had first gotten together and was well on his way to landing a prestigious position at the firm, and Olivia would be lying if she said his financial situation had not made her feel secure in her decision to start a family with him. Her family was not poor but she would never ask her parents to borrow money, and starting out as a writer was not exactly the most lucrative business. She did not think of herself as a gold digger because she truly had seen something in Edison – had wanted to be a good wife to him – when they had first been married but as the honeymoon phase wore off and he began to travel more, she began to see another side of him – much like the one she was seeing at that moment, but never as openly coarse as he was being now. "I did not marry you for your money, and if that's what you think you are a sick man."

"If you insist," he replied with a nonchalant shrug that only fed Olivia's rage. She felt her bottom lip quiver at his attitude and blatant disregard for her feelings. It was one thing when they were equally angry with each other because at least then Olivia knew he felt _something_; some kind of passion towards her that drove him to yell.

"Why are you being like this?"

He shrugged again, granting her no verbal reply and instead beginning to type something on his phone. The yell building in Olivia's throat died on her lips as her phone chimed. She shot Edison a look that went completely unnoticed and sat on the edge of the bed, opening the email she had just received. Her heart did a little flip when she saw who it was from.

_Livi,_

_I had a wonderful time with you the other day. You truly are a special person, and a very gifted writer. I was hooked on your story from the very first sentence. It is both compelling and thought provoking, expertly using a fictional land to highlight real life issues. I can see where you begin to question your own skills towards the end and I think this has a lot to do with your struggle to write. My advice to you now is just to believe in your abilities because you are more than capable of writing an award winning novel. That said I would l love to help you more if you would allow me to. If you get a moment next week I would love to meet with you again and go more in depth with my critique. Let me know if you're interested._

_Fi__tz Grant  
Dean of Fine Arts  
Georgetown University_

Olivia felt herself fighting the smile that wanted to spread across her face as she reread the email.

"Fitzgerald Grant? As in Grant, Doyle, and Thornton, one of the most successful law firms on the West coast?" Edison chimed in, suddenly at her shoulder.

Olivia quickly turned the screen of her phone off and placed in under her leg on the mattress. "Stop reading my stuff."

Edison was beyond hearing anything she had to say, going off on his own tangent. Whatever he was saying had him buzzing with excitement. "We've been trying to sign that account for years but Grant is a tough bastard. Insists on managing his own funds but he won't be around much longer and we plan on seizing it as soon as he keels over."

"Look you obviously have the wrong person. This is just a teacher at Georgetown I met the other day. He's helping me with my writing." But it couldn't be a coincidence that these two men had practically the same name and Olivia couldn't help but wonder if Fitz's real name was Fitzgerald, something she felt dense for not realising sooner. From Edison's description she deduced he must be thinking of Fitz's father, the hardworking business man who was more attached to his company than his own family. She was inexplicably happy that Edison was having such a hard time with the older Fitz.

"That must be his son!" Edison declared loudly, as if reading her mind. "You know that man's son. This could be good. I mean, really good. Do you know what this means, Liv?"

Olivia snorted loudly. "No, I don't. And I don't care either." She would not be easily swayed.

"You know Fitzgerald Grant's son!" he practically yelled as if whatever he was concocting was the most obvious thing in the world. "Which means we have an in. You'll schmooze the son, get close to him and when he takes over the company, I'll be right there to lend a helping hand. It'll be all mine. This is perfect, Liv."

In his mounting excitement Edison had completely forgotten their ongoing spat and locked his arms tightly around Olivia's waist from behind. He planted a light kiss on her neck, leaving a wet trail as he moved towards her chin. She grabbed both of his arms and tore them from around her and stood up from the bed, rounding on him.

"I'm not your employee and I'm not some pawn you can pimp out when you need something," she snarled, eyes blazing. She did not mention that Fitz had no interest in inheriting his family's company or practicing law in any capacity, or that she was too emotionally involved with him to betray him in such a way. She wondered if Edison had noticed anything telling about the email, like the way Fitz had addressed her or that he'd called her special. It could appear harmless to the untrained eye, or to the eye of someone who was only worried about their own agenda.

Edison sighed loudly. "There you go, being dramatic. I'm not 'pimping' you out; I'm networking. That's not unheard of."

"Look I don't care what you call it; I'm not interested in anything you have to say right now." She folded her arms defiantly, still waiting for his oncoming apology.

"Suit yourself." He pressed a few more buttons on his phone before setting it on the nightstand and crawling under the blanket. "Let me know when you get over whatever this for the opportunity it is." He watched her sour expression for a second longer. "Are you sure you're not up for sex? You can keep the shirt on."

Olivia threw her hands up in defeat and stormed out of the room, leaving an unruffled Edison to turn over in bed completely unaffected. In the hallway she leaned on the wall and let her face fall into her hands. When had her life become so…difficult? If anything she had expected the life of a suburban mother to be simple, uneventful; not the life she wanted, no, but a stable one. Yet here she was, searching for a comfortable place to sleep because she could not stand the idea of being in bed with her own husband, who was slowly but surely proving himself to be much different than the man she had met all those years ago. And here she was, questioning her own marriage because of another man who she had known for barely a week. Here she was, and she hated where she was in that moment as she let her body slide down the wall until she was sitting on the floor. She felt pathetic and helpless and like she had no control. All she wanted to do was call Fitz and hear his voice; if he told her everything would be alright, she would gladly believe it. Despite her feelings towards Edison in that moment she couldn't help the feeling of guilt that claimed her when she thought about another man only feet away from the bed she shared with her husband. And not just any other man, but one she was quickly falling for, one who had poured his heart out to her, one who made her feel like a love-struck teenager.

One who Edison had just encouraged her to get closer to.

Overcome with the thoughts swirling through her now throbbing head, Olivia rose from the floor and tried to clear her mind. Edison had told her to dazzle Fitz for his own selfish reasons, not so she could pine over him for her own selfish reasons. As dispassionately as he was behaving that night he would never tell his own wife to hop into bed with another man to advance in his career, even if it was something she was constantly thinking about.

Silently she tiptoed into Avery's room, gingerly laying her body in the space between the sleeping child and the wall. Olivia wrapped her daughter in her arms and kissed the top of her head, closing her own eyes.

"Mommy?" Avery murmured groggily. "Wha's happening?"

Olivia shushed her lightly. "Nothing, _chère_. Go back to sleep."

The girl did not have to be told twice and almost immediately she was pulled back into her dreams. Olivia was sure she would be up well into the night and wee hours of the morning but she felt herself drifting to sleep within minutes, lulled by the rhythmic breathing of her daughter resting peacefully in her arms.

* * *

The sun hit Olivia's sleeping form and shone through her eyelids and she stirred, turning over in bed and pulling the blanket over her head. Cold air hit her feet and she cracked her eyes to inspect, remembering that she had not slept in her own bed with full length sheets. She could hear movement and voices below her and after taking a few moments to collect herself and carefully make Avery's bed, she moved towards the stairs.

The door to Edison's office was closed but Olivia could easily hear him yelling at someone through the phone on the other side. The clock on the wall told her it was a little after 10 a.m. He had barely been home for twelve hours and even though it was Saturday he was already hard at work, shutting everything and everyone else out. Olivia fought the urge to burst through the door and yell some more, though she was not sure if it was because she did not want to fight or if she was afraid there would no fight. Either way, it was too early and she was still squinting at the light. They had plenty of time to deal with all of that later.

She paused only briefly at the door before moving into the den where the kids were unsupervised and making the most of it. Avery was jumping on the couch, up and down in a straight line as she focused intently on the cartoon blaring from the television. Resting on the discarded couch cushions, Connor was flinging toys at the opposite wall from a pile next to him. Olivia cleared her throat loudly and both children ceased, Avery dropping to sit on the couch.

The den was set aside just for the children to play in and was dominated by a large plastic kitchen and a tent that looked like a princess castle but Olivia, especially that day and that early in the morning, had little patience for the hellions her children were slowly turning into. Of course they would only behave this way if Edison were around because he was too engrossed in his own problems to think that them tearing apart furniture was a cause for concern.

"I _know_ I must be dreaming because there is no way in hell that _my_ children behaving like this," Olivia said loudly, powering the TV off so she could be heard. "Have you lost your damn mind? Jumping on the furniture? I know you know better, Avery."

The little girl gave a sheepish look and hung her head, watching her legs swing in the air. "Daddy didn't care."

"Yet you still know better, because if you didn't, you wouldn't be looking so apologetic right now." She turned to Connor with a frown. "And I'm very upset with you. We had this talk a few weeks ago. I told you about how we treat our things; with respect."

Connor's face bunched into an attempt at a scowl. "No."

Olivia's jaw dropped and she sputtered. "Excuse me?"

"I don't wanna," the little boy said defiantly, crossing his chubby arms.

"If Daddy says it's okay then it is because he said he's the man of the house," Avery added and Olivia felt all of her patience dissolve.

It was one thing to have then disregard her rules when Edison was watching them and she had no say, but to have her own children look her in the eye and blatantly ignore her had Olivia fuming. Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she tried to tailor her words to four and two year old ears but she was shouting before she could stop herself.

"I don't give a _fuck_ what Daddy says! Do you hear what I'm saying right now? I said no more-"

She was cut off by the hand that landed on her shoulder and she spun around to face Edison.

"Liv? What in the world is wrong with you?"

"You!" she shrieked, jabbing a finger into his chest. "You and your job and the fact that you keep trying to undermine me to my own children! I am so sick of this," – she waved a hand in the air in indication – "and being stuck here when it's clear that no one gives a damn about anything I have to say."

Suddenly she felt herself being pulled forward and Edison's arms wrapped around her and pulled her in tightly for an embrace. Olivia began to struggle against him but he secured her arms by her sides, effectively trapping her in place. He dipped his head to her ear and whispered harshly, "_Not in front of the kids_."

Olivia stiffened, listening for the sniffles behind her. Edison still had a vise like grip on her though she had calmed down considerably and she tapped his side to let him know she was okay. He loosened his arms but kept her close to him, keeping her in an embrace devoid of emotion or tenderness.

"Olivia, why don't you go upstairs and lay down."

It was a demand and Olivia wanted to tell him to fuck off but felt she had caused enough damage for the day. With a curt nod to let him know she would comply, she stepped out of his arms and, after giving her kids an apologetic look, rushed upstairs and went immediately to her own bed. She silently crawled under the covers and lay down, pulling the blanket up over her head. It was completely unlike her to yell at the kids, and while she occasionally let a curse word slip around them, never had she cursed directly at them. Her anger at Edison, while still present, was waning and was quickly being replaced by anger at herself, and shame. Tears stung the corners of her eyes but would not fall. She had no tears left, and she was tired of crying anyway. Everything seemed to move her to tears these days and she was sick of breaking down because it did nothing to help her case, but at the same time she needed somewhere to go and have a nice cry.

Hours later she lay in the same position, her knees drawn to her chest, as the door opened slowly, light filtering in from the hallway. Heavy footsteps moved across the room and she felt the bed dip with the added weight as someone sat next to her. Olivia expected Edison to reach out and comfort her but he only began speaking in a cold, level voice.

"I'm taking the kids to my parent's house but you should really get up and say goodbye first."

She shot up urgently, letting the blanket fall from her head. "What? Why would you do that?"

"Because you're acting crazy right now and I don't have time to watch them during the day. They can stay with my mom for a few days until you're over whatever this is you're going through. You can yell at me all you want but I won't let you scare my kids."

Olivia scoffed. "Now you care about them?"

"Dammit, Olivia, this is what I mean. Nothing I do is right. You're obviously going through something and I won't let you take it out on me or the kids. Now, go downstairs and say goodbye and can you at least pretend to smile?"

Without responding, Olivia threw the blanket off of her legs and stepped out of bed, stepping carefully to avoid stomping in her frustration. It was becoming glaringly obvious that anything she had to say, Edison had a reply that made her look like the bad guy and she was becoming increasingly unsure of herself. Maybe she was the bad guy. And if she wasn't, she was treading a fine line to becoming one.

Avery and Connor were standing side by side in front of the door, bundled against the weather and each clutching a stuffed toy. They wore dismal expressions that only intensified as Olivia stopped in front of them and kneeled to speak to them.

She regarded them carefully – the broken looks on their little faces as they stared at the floor – and felt miserable. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you guys, or to yell at you like that." When there was no change in there demeanor she tried a different approach. "I heard you guys are going to Grandma's. That'll be fun; she probably has presents for you guys." Edison's mother, much like Edison himself, loved to spoil those kids. "I'll miss you…I love you."

"Love you, too," Avery muttered, still with the forlorn expression but at least looking Olivia in the eye. Connor's eyes traveled over her briefly but went immediately back to looking at his shoes. Olivia gathered them both into her arms, hugging them tightly.

"Alright, time to go." Edison clapped his hands and swooped down to pick Connor up.

"Do you need help getting them into the car?" Olivia asked quietly, watching as he shouldered a diaper bag.

"Nope. I've got it." Edison stopped in the doorway and turned to look at Olivia. "I may be back a bit late; I've got a meeting in the city." He paused, looked like he was reconsidering. "Actually, I'll be having a few drinks so I'll probably just get a hotel room. Don't wait up." With that he whisked both kids through the door and down the walkway. Olivia watched through the screen as he struggled with both car seats and finally got into the driver's seat, pulling off without so much as a backwards glance.

* * *

**A/N: Oh my, I hope you all aren't starting to hate Olivia after her outburst. I'm trying to make her relatable so she's got to have some flaws, but can you blame her? We've now seen her interact with Edison in person and how they operate as a family and it's not looking too well. And Edison did make a suggestion that might come back to bite him in the ass... Next chapter is being written as you read this and it's going to be a happy one!**

**I'm purposefully avoiding discussing last night's episode because I don't always have the most popular opinion but, just...what? That's really all I have to say on the matter. Let's see where the back nine will take us, and hopefully it won't be too nerve wracking (couldn't even type that with a straight face). xo **


	6. Chapter 6

Her bed was large and soft and completely hers and from the moment she regained control of her legs enough to carry herself up the stairs, she had curled into a trembling ball under the heavy comforter, a small, weeping lump on the enormous mattress. Olivia felt guilty and [out of control] but mainly she was furious, and the fact that the person on the receiving end of her anger was being so blasé towards her only fanned the flames. That she could do absolutely nothing about it made her feel helpless. It was a deadly combination of emotions that had her questioning her own sanity. Maybe Edison was right and she was being overdramatic. Maybe she was crazy, or hormonal. There was no other plausible explanation as to why she was suddenly head over heels for a man she had only just met, or why she was so enamored by him she was starting fights with her husband.

Before she had even completed the thought, Olivia knew it was bullshit. Edison was wrong, her marriage was decaying – if not already through – and it had nothing to do with Fitz. He was a welcome presence but a complication, a distracting factor in the already complex equation that was becoming her life. It was bad enough that she could hardly speak to her own husband without blowing up or being blown off, and that her own kids were either disrespecting her or terrified of her. The last thing she needed was a handsome man – a sweet, caring, handsome man who was, she observed, as taken with her as she was with him – coming along and sweeping her off her feet. That was what she felt like around Fitz, as girlish as it sounded. Like she was floating, inches off the ground.

True to his word, Edison did not return that night and when he didn't return well into the next day, Olivia was fed up with sulking. The bed that had been her sanctuary for the past fourteen hours began to feel like a prison as the afternoon neared. She needed to get out, get to surroundings beyond the mundane suburban nightmare she called home. She needed something to cheer her up, someone who knew exactly what to say and do – because it didn't matter what they said or did – to brighten her day.

* * *

"You don't listen to Jay-Z."

"Of course I do. He's a great artist."

"No, I don't believe you," Olivia stated adamantly. "Hearing a few of his songs on the radio doesn't count."

Fitz feigned offense. "What, you think that because I'm a white guy who grew up on a ranch I can't enjoy a wide range of music? That's a bit discriminatory, Livi."

"No, that has nothing to do with it," she replied unconvincingly. "You just…don't seem like the type."

"Well I assure you, I am. Looks can be deceiving. For example, I can jump quite high." He grinned mischievously. "I'm pretty good at staying on beat, too." Rising slowly from his desk, Fitz began to jerk his shoulders in what appeared to be a stilted version of the Harlem shake.

Olivia threw her head back and laughed – genuinely laughed – while begging him to stop, and Fitz relished the sound. When she had called him hours earlier, she had sounded blue and like perhaps she had been crying and asked him if he had any free time that day. He had a number of classes that day but had told her to stop by during his lunch hour and she arrived promptly, thanking him before curling up on the couch in his private office. Since her arrival, Olivia had worn the same sad expression, giving a stiff smile here and there as he told her one corny joke after the other. Fitz could tell that whatever was bothering her was not something she wanted to discuss and he would give her time to come around if she ever wanted to talk, but seeing her look so defeated was breaking his heart and he was determined to see her give a real smile. The laugh he received instead was a pleasant surprise and Fitz felt his own mood lift. Never had there been a sound so perfect and he thought of how far he would go to make sure he could always hear that harmony every day.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Olivia questioned nervously, examining the face-splitting smile that had spread across Fitz's face.

"You have a beautiful laugh," he stated simply. "And I'm glad you're feeling better."

Instantly, Olivia's features shifted back into the slight frown she had previously worn, her shoulders falling considerably, and Fitz felt stupid for bringing it up. He cautiously moved towards the couch, gingerly sitting on the cushion next to her and scooting closer when she had no objections. He stopped when their bodies were barely an inch apart, their knees touching slightly where she had drawn her legs up to rest next to her. Fitz said nothing, giving her an opportunity to speak without pressing her for information though he wanted nothing more than to know who had hurt her so he could pummel them. How anyone could mistreat the ethereal creature beside him, could see her full lips turn down and her eyes shine with tears and know they were the cause, was beyond him. He was fighting the urge to pull her into his arms simply to comfort her, and because she had removed her sweater and the blush colored sleeveless blouse she was wearing made her skin even more tantalizing, something he thought impossible. There was nothing overly provocative about it; it was slightly sheer but she wore a camisole underneath and while the first two buttons were undone, there was no visible cleavage. It was just her, and the way the air around her seemed to shimmer.

"It's falling apart." Olivia's voice was so quiet and she said nothing for so long afterwards that someone who had not been listening to her breathing as intensely as Fitz was would have missed it. "I don't know what to do anymore. I'm not sure if there's anything I can do."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Fitz had no idea what she was talking about but it would not make a difference; if she asked for his help he would do anything.

Olivia gave a wry smile and finally turned her head towards him, her eyes unseeing and unfocused. "My husband thinks I'm crazy; so crazy he felt the need to keep my own kids away from me. If he _listened_ to anything I said he might think otherwise but that's what I call wishful thinking."

"I'm sorry."

Her eyes registered shock as she seemed to notice Fitz was sitting so close to her for the first time, and the smile faded quickly. "No, don't. I'm complaining to you about my husband and that's low; it's unfair to you. I shouldn't have…" She trailed off, her eyes dropping to look at her hands twisting in her lap before looking back to Fitz's imploring eyes. "I probably shouldn't even be here."

"Stop," he told her sternly. "Please. I know this is confusing and inconvenient and difficult but I don't want you to go. That may be wrong of me because, well, you're not mine to want but I do and I can't help that." He took a deep breath, searching her face for a reaction but she was completely shut off to him at the moment. He only hoped that he wasn't reading her wrong, that his words weren't unwarranted, as he plowed on. "Look, I would never push you or try anything out of line; I'm not that kind of guy. And I won't bad mouth your husband either, even if he deserves it – sorry. I just want… can we just sit here for a minute, and it will just be us and nothing else matters? No funny business, I promise. Just one minute."

* * *

It was the first time either of them had addressed the elephant that walked into the room every time they were together – the glaringly obvious attraction between the two of them. As Olivia schooled her features to reveal nothing, to hold back until she had a proper chance to gauge the situation, their connection was tangible, polluting the air in a thick cloud that shrouded them and cut them off from the world. He was asking her for one minute to ignore everything outside but when Fitz was around, he was all she could think of anyway. It was why he was the first person she had called – not her sister or her mother or the husband she could not reconcile with – when she needed cheering up. Now he was telling her how much he wanted her – something she had already known but it felt so good to hear him say it, to have him admit that what she was feeling was not unshared. It sent her heart fluttering in her chest and nullified any lingering doubts she was having about her own sanity.

"One minute," she acquiesced and relief flooded his face.

His happy expression was replaced with mild shock when Olivia unfolded herself from the spot she had claimed on the couch since arriving and kneeled in front of him, placing one of her legs in between his. Olivia was taken aback at her own behavior, unsure of exactly when she had decided to climb into this man's lap, but being near him felt so right; she didn't have the willpower to back away. Grabbing onto Fitz's broad shoulders for balance, she bent her head forward until their foreheads touched, her eyes never leaving his. She guessed she would not have been able to break the eye contact if she wanted to. Following her lead and his earlier temptation, Fitz ran his hands up and down Olivia's bare arms before resting his them on either side of her face. When they finally settled into the bizarre embrace it was as if everything surrounding them faded into an afterthought. The buzz of students traipsing through the halls, the incessant ticking of a clock on the wall; each and every sight and sound became second to the unyielding eye contact they had. They shared one breath between them, both chests alternately rising and falling but otherwise they were completely still. Fitz's proximity tended to make Olivia feel hazy but never had they been this close, or in such an intimate position, and she felt almost intoxicated. It was the most prolonged minute of her life and yet she knew that however much time she spent in his arms would never be enough – she would always need _more_. Even then she was seconds away from tearing his shirt open and begging him to take her right there when the telltale sound of someone turning the doorknob sent her flying back to her previous spot on the couch.

"Professor Grant, there you are. I need to ask you about the- Oh." The young woman halted in the doorway, eyes flickering rapidly between Fitz, who had risen from the couch, and Olivia, who was blushing furiously and refusing to look anywhere but at her own shoes. "Sorry. I'll, uh, see you in class," she sputtered, backpedalling and shutting the door quietly behind her.

Sighing heavily, Fitz turned to Olivia and waited until her eyes finally rose to meet his. He was failing miserably at keeping a straight face and when he saw the defiant pout of her lips, a single, loud laugh escaped his lips.

"It's not funny," she grumbled.

"No, of course not," he said on another laugh. "It's a very serious matter."

"Fitz," she whined, "stop laughing." But her lips quirked into a small smile and they let out simultaneous sighs of relief. Olivia had been apprehensive about facing him after their minute in fear of the subsequent moment being awkward. And despite almost being caught in such a questionable position with a man other than her husband, Edison was the farthest thing from her mind. All she could think about was Fitz and his smell and how strong his thigh felt cushioned between her legs. When she was on top of him she had been so preoccupied with memorising every detail of his face that the suggestiveness of their position had barely registered until afterwards and she crossed her legs, already missing the feeling of him there, of him so near.

"Do you want to leave?" Fitz asked her, suddenly serious, as he moved a bit closer to the couch. He had tiptoed into their moment and now he was drawing back, she gleaned, allowing her to control the progression, if there would be any. Olivia was touched at how thoughtful he was being but she wished she didn't have to be the one in control. Normally, she thrived on control and organisation but this situation was delicate and confusing to her. If he made the first move, she would follow. Eagerly. It was different when she had to be the one initiating things. They were at a stalemate.

The ball was in her court. "I should," she whispered, and his face fell, but he gave an understanding nod. "But I don't want to. I want to stay right here." At his questioning look, his silent _are you sure_, she patted the cushion beside her. "Come sit with me."

He glanced at the clock. "There's nothing I would rather do right now but I've got class in a few minutes and I did absolutely nothing to prepare."

Olivia followed his gaze. "I can't believe it's been an hour already."

"Time has a way of slipping away from us. I'd ask you to wait for me but I've got three back-to-back classes and you'd be bored out of your mind in here."

"What…what exactly would I be waiting for?"

He shrugged. "If you wanted to talk, I guess. We could get dinner, just hang out."

To keep up appearances, she made a big show of considering his tentative offer. "I think I can do dinner."

* * *

**So this chapter was a bit shorter but a lot has happened. And by that I mean they have taken the metaphorical leap. They're (implied) officially official now! Of course that's only the first step. There are still some obstacles, as I'm sure you haven't forgotten, and a few surprises down the road. But look at how cute they are. Next up: "date night". Hopefully, it will go down without a hitch. xo**


	7. Chapter 7

"You going somewhere?"

Olivia watched her reflection intently as she ran the straightener through her hair, ignoring Edison's incredulous tone as he marched into the room. He didn't wait for her reply, continuing through to the walk-in closet. After a few moments, he stuck his head out.

"I would think you'd want to hang around here, seeing as you weren't feeling too well yesterday."

With deliberate accuracy, Olivia curled the end of a piece of hair and gently set the straightener onto the vanity table. She clenched her jaw, loosened it. Edison had been away for nearly twenty-four hours with nary a call or text and now he was giving her grief? The day before she would have whacked him over the head with the sizzling flat iron but after seeing Fitz she was much calmer. That did nothing to abate the amount of attitude she gave as she swung around on the ornamental stool and pursed her lips at him.

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't live solely for taking care of your children. And I'm feeling perfectly fine. So yes, I'm going out with some friends." She was a bit surprised at how easily the lie rolled off her tongue, but much more so at the fact that Edison didn't question her about it.

"Oh, alright then. So you're over whatever that was yesterday? I mean, you're not mad at me anymore?"

Olivia let out a sharp breath through her nose and turned to touch up her make-up in the mirror. "I wouldn't take it that far. I just don't feel like dealing with it tonight. This doesn't mean you're off the hook."

The answer was good enough for Edison, and he disappeared back into the closet, giving Olivia a moment to look at her phone and review the message Fitz had sent her regarding their date. That was what it was going to be, she decided, since he was giving her the reins. They had been texting intermittently throughout the day, when he wasn't in class, and after much deliberating she had told him to just pick the restaurant and he told her to meet him at Oya, an Asian restaurant downtown, at eight. She quickly turned phone over so the screen was facing the table when she heard Edison emerging from the closet, now dressed in his pajamas and carrying a magazine.

Olivia quirked an eyebrow at him in the mirror. "You're staying in? And not working? That's got to be a first."

He shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed to watch her. "I've been working all day. Even I get breaks."

Surprised at the amount of self-control she possessed, Olivia bit her tongue and rose from the stool, finally satisfied with her appearance. She couldn't remember the last time she had gone all out getting dressed up for something she was looking forward to. Edison had company dinners and clients to impress and she had to get fancy for those, but they were his events, his friends, his colleagues. Olivia usually found herself standing in the corner, nursing glass after glass of wine in an attempt to make the nights semi-bearable, avoiding talking to the other wives. Their idea of stimulating conversation involved the most effective brand of diaper rash cream, the latest sales at Neiman's, and the benefits of Victorian style versus modern décor.

Edison cleared his throat loudly and she halfway turned to look at him, swinging her purse over her shoulder. "That dress is a bit revealing, don't you think Liv?"

Olivia looked down at herself, fingering the hem of the little black dress that skimmed her mid-thigh. "It's not that bad, Edison. Anyway, I better leave now before I'm late. I'll be back later; don't wait up." With that, she turned on the heel of her emerald green pumps and sauntered out of the room, a victorious smile playing at her lips.

* * *

If Fitz had any doubts that Olivia was interested in him at that point, they vanished the second he saw her step into the dimly lit restaurant and hand her coat off to the maître d'. The tight black dress she was wearing would have been sexy enough without the see-through lace material that began at the collar and dipped far enough to reveal the tops of her round breasts. Her legs looked miles long and every inch of skin he could see seemed to glow brighter as the hostess led her to the table. When she saw him, her face lit up with a shy smile. Fitz was so busy staring he almost forgot his manners and he rose clumsily, moving around the table to pull her chair out. He noticed that the dress had no back, revealing all of the smooth, creamy skin from her neck to just above where her butt stretched the fabric enticingly.

"Thank you," she said brightly, leaning in to lightly touch her lips to his cheek before taking her seat.

After settling in and ordering their drinks – red wine for her, scotch for him – they faced each other across the candlelit table, goofy smiles highlighting both of their faces.

"You look…wow," Fitz mumbled dumbly, tempting a youthful giggle from her.

"You have such a way with words, Mr. Grant."

"Hey, I don't have to be eloquent. That's your job; you're the writer. I express myself through my art and, from what I've heard, that's pretty hot."

"I guess it's pretty attractive," she admitted playfully. "I bet you look great covered in paint."

Fitz wasn't sure if it was simply wishful thinking, or he was reading too much into it, but he was fairly certain she had just upped the stakes. Her voice dropped to a sultry, purring tone and she gazed up at him through her thick eyelashes. He wanted nothing more than to be cautious and hold himself back but if she continued to watch him so intently, to flutter her hand around her collarbone, to part her lips ever so slightly while she waited for his reply, he was almost positive that any semblance of caution would be thrown out the window before their drinks arrived.

But if she wanted to flirt, then dammit he would too. "Maybe you should come over sometime, see for yourself."

The smile she gave him was unlike anything he had ever seen. Sexy, flirty, a sweet siren song luring him forward. "I just might have to do that. You know, I just realised I've never seen any of your artwork."

"I keep them at home, mostly. In my studio."

"Ooh, how artsy. I bet they're amazing, though. If Professor Been taught you, they have to be."

At that moment, the waiter returned with their drinks and to take their orders for dinner. Fitz, who was familiar with the menu, ordered for both of them after making sure Olivia was alright with that, selecting a large platter of mixed sushi rolls. The waiter nodded curtly, staring at Olivia with a bit too much interest for Fitz's liking, and scurried off to place their order.

"How exactly do you know Cyrus?" he continued once they were alone. "If you were, what, an English major?"

"Double major in Sociology and Comparative Literature, actually," she corrected. "Cyrus went to school with my parents, and my mom is a big art buff. Me, not so much. But I spent a lot of time around the art building because Cyrus was my mentor. Writing is technically an art, and he helped me a lot with the creative aspect." Olivia beamed proudly, sitting up a bit straighter. "I was his star pupil."

"Not so fast now, I distinctly remember Cy calling me his favorite."

"You were his favorite when you were in school. I was there a bit more recently," she quipped.

"Are you calling me old?" he asked, feigning offense.

"Not in so many words," she replied. "I'm simply saying you're older than I am. Because you're so much more mature," she added quickly, blushing slightly as she realised what she had implied.

"Ha! Alright, I'll take it. If you must know, though, I'm turning forty-one this year but I assure you, I'm as agile as I was ten years ago."

With a light laugh, Olivia leaned forward a bit, her hair falling around her shoulder and framing her face. There was that come-hither smile again. "You better be sure of that, Grant, because I'm expecting you to keep up with me."

Fitz was certain his jaw dropped as Olivia settled back into her chair, running her tongue across her bottom lip as she eyed him carefully. He felt the crotch of his pants tighten immediately and clamped his mouth shut to suppress the groan that was dying to be heard. After a moment, when he didn't reply, she began to look uncertain, fidgeting nervously with the silverware.

"I think you should be more worried about keeping up with me, Livi."

* * *

_You cannot have sex with this man. You will not have sex with this man._

_You want to._

"I do."

Fitz's head snapped up from his plate. "Did you say something?"

"N-no. I mean, I was just saying the food is good," Olivia stuttered.

"Glad you like it."

"Mm," was all she could manage, dipping her head down to avoid staring at the sexy way Fitz's broad shoulders filled out his dress shirt. She wasn't sure how a painter managed to stay so fit, but she was eager to see just how fit he really was.

"Livi?"

It was Olivia's turn to sit up quickly, worried she had inadvertently mumbled another thought aloud. Fitz was regarding her curiously, his head tilted to one side. Carefully, he reached a hand out and gently put it on top of hers.

"Relax, Livi. We're just having dinner. I don't bite," he teased in a voice that suggested he meant otherwise. "Talk to me."

"Okay, um, how was the rest of your day?"

"It was nice. All I could think about after you left was how in the world I was going to get through the next few hours knowing I'd be seeing you later. But class went really well. I really love those kids. I know they're practically adults but they're still so naïve; I feel like I'm responsible for them. I try to always be there when they need me."

"That's really sweet. You really love teaching, huh?"

"I do, very much. Although I consider myself more of a mentor. Anyway, how did your day go after you left?"

Olivia chewed her lip nervously. How did she tell this man she could barely function for six hours because she was so looking forward to seeing him, spending time with him, and the idea made her giddy and nervous and elated all at once? She supposed, considering how open he was with her, and how close she _wanted_ to be to him, she could just say it. "It was pretty uneventful. I was kind of nervous about tonight and I could hardly pay attention to anything." Her eyes darted away briefly before settling back on his. "The night is going perfectly, though, so I guess I didn't have anything to worry about."

Their conversation continued to flow nicely following the awkward interlude as they recounted tales of their childhoods and days at college, both listening intently as the other spoke. There was no rush but they were excited to hear everything and anything they could about each other. When they had last been out together, they had asked seemingly meaningless questions, small details they felt they should know. This time around they were going more in-depth while still avoiding the touchier subjects, namely his father and the undeniable inconvenience that was her marriage. Those things were unimportant.

"I was a terror," Olivia admitted good-naturedly. "Or that's what everyone tells me anyway. I would harass my cousins and beat them up but they couldn't hit me because they were all boys and all older than me. Apparently there was one time when I was about six when I got upset and broke a window and put one of their baseballs underneath it so everyone would think it was them."

"You were awful," he gasped, laughing nonetheless. "I bet you were still adorable."

"Oh, definitely. I wouldn't have been able to wreak so much havoc had it not been for my award winning 'it wasn't me' smile, everyone would have hated me," she explained, flashing him a dimpled smile that was all teeth. "It was a lot cuter when I had a few teeth missing."

At that moment the waiter returned with the check Fitz had just paid – after much disquiet from Olivia – and bade them farewell as he gathered their dishes from the table.

"It's late," Olivia pointed out with a glance at her phone. The time was nearing eleven. "We really do lose track of time."

"Yeah. But, I mean, if you're up to it, we can go somewhere else and hang out. Somewhere quieter," he added, indicating the growing crowd at the bar.

"Where would we go?"

"Where do you want to go?"

It was a good question, a simple question. She knew where she wanted to go, but whether it was the right place to go was still being questioned. She had had a few glasses of wine, and one glass of saké –per Fitz's insistence that she just _had_ to try it once – and her judgment, while not completely clouded, was fuzzy. But more than that she simply didn't care.

"I wanna see your paintings."

* * *

Fitz's apartment in Capital Hill was nothing like Olivia had expected but it suited him perfectly. There was nothing about it that screamed bachelor pad, which she was extremely grateful for. The room wasn't large but it was spacious enough and had high, vaulted ceilings, and everything fit into it without looking crowded. The kitchen was off to one side, separated by an island, and in the middle was a small living room setup with a leather couch, a coffee table, and a television. To the other side of the room was a partition that shut the 'bedroom' off from everything else. Directly across from the front door was a set of glass French doors with white curtains.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Fitz announced, sweeping his arm through the air with a flourish. "Would you like something to drink?"

She shook her head. "I think I've had enough for the night." She was already swaying on her feet a bit in the heels she was wearing and she would have to sober up enough to drive herself home when Fitz returned her to her car. "Is that your studio," she asked, gesturing towards the majestic doors across the room.

"Yeah. You ready?" He held out his hand and she gladly took it, grateful for the support as they trekked across the room and the contact. She would never tire of touching him. His hand was strong and slightly calloused from holding paintbrushes all day and she squeezed it tightly as he opened one of the large doors, stepping aside to watch her expression as she stepped into the room. Canvases were leaning against the wall, stacked on the floor, a few were resting on the table to the side, surrounded by jars of paint and brushes and sketchbooks. And they were all beautiful. A few were landscapes but most of them were abstract and Olivia felt she understood every one of them as soon as she laid eyes on it. She could tell he had been sad when he made the one with the deep purple stripe running down the middle, or that something had royally pissed him off the day he had splattered orange-red paint across another.

"These are wonderful," she breathed, circling the room to get a closer glimpse of each one. As she neared the back wall, she noticed his easel, which faced away from the door, had something on it. It appeared to be unfinished but there was something about it that drew her closer. Olivia reached a tentative hand out as if to touch it and drew it back quickly. The canvas was painted entirely yellow, not a spot untouched, and he had begun to paint something in a dark grey over top of it, though it was still in its early stages and not detailed enough to discern. She looked up to see him watching her, and he looked almost embarrassed.

"This is amazing, Fitz," she called out, wondering why he was looking so sheepish. "Why haven't you finished it yet?"

He shrugged. "I usually paint when I feel a certain way about a certain situation," he explained. "And this _situation_ hasn't been resolved yet, I guess. I'm waiting to see how it plays out before I can finish. To see if I'll get a happy ending."

The intensity of with which he was watching her made Olivia squirm, though she wasn't sure if it was from being uncomfortable or being aroused. Probably both. More so the latter, if she was being completely honest with herself. He was looking at her like she was a glass of water in the desert.

"Can I use your bathroom?" Olivia asked quickly, rushing past him out of the room before he could answer and locking herself behind the first door she encountered. Luckily, she discovered it was the bathroom once she turned on the light and faced her reflection in the mirror above the sink. She was flushed, and she was certain it wasn't from the short run she had just made though that was probably the explanation behind her tousled hair. She made a futile attempt at putting each strand back in place and finally gave up altogether. Above all she needed to catch her breath because it seemed everything she looked at Fitz it caught in her throat. The night had been flawless as of yet and she didn't want to do anything to ruin it, like take things too far too soon. She told herself it was for his own good, though the excuse was barely cohesive.

After a few head-clearing breaths, Olivia emerged from the bathroom to find Fitz lazing on the couch, his bare feet resting on the coffee table. The lights had been dimmed significantly. When he noticed her there, Fitz turned his head and gave a mischievous smile.

"Come join me."

Without hesitation, Olivia started across the room, taking her shoes off as she went, grateful for the respite from the heels though she already missed the added height. She tossed the heels to the side with a clatter and settled herself into the leather cushion beside him, taking extra care to make sure her dress didn't ride up. She stared straight ahead, though, examining the wall as if it had all the answers.

"Look at me," Fitz whispered. "Livi, look at me." When she still didn't adhere to his gentle command, he put a light finger on her chin and she allowed him to turn her head, meeting his eyes. "There you go."

"Your eyes," she exclaimed, a bit shocked. "They're blue. I could have sworn they were grey but…" And a beautiful blue they were, though barely so. She could still see the steel in them but now, instead of a light grey, they seemed to be more of a cloudy blue.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, they go back and forth sometimes."

As she watched, the blue in his eyes began to recede, swallowed by the black pupil, until she could barely make out a color at all. His breathing hitched ever so slightly and the finger he had yet to remove from her face became a hand that cupped her entire cheek.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured and before she had a chance to form a coherent thought through the haze he was creating around her brain, Olivia leaned forward and planted her lips onto his. Gently, sweetly, brushing hers across his in a barely there kiss that had them both breathing heavily, two people sharing the same breath once more. Without pulling away from each other, they began to rise from the couch, Fitz's lips detaching from hers to travel across her face and down to her neck without touching her, waiting for permission.

Olivia shuddered at his proximity to one of her more sensitive spots, her eyes drifting closed as his lips hovered below her ear. Every part of her was buzzing with anticipation as she finally felt his skin touch hers and his mouth brushed across her neck. Her arms were hanging limply at her sides, practically shaking at the restraint she was exercising, and though she wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him, something was still holding her back; a nagging voice in the back of her head listing pros and cons and consequences. She needed him to speak, to keep her grounded and in the moment with him.

"If you tell me to stop," he whispered, lips resting just below her ear, "I will. If you say it we can leave right now and pretend this never happened. Tell me you don't want this to happen."

When she did not speak he continued in a strangled voice. "Tell me to stop, Livi," he pleaded.

In response, her arms shot out to encircle his neck as she attached her lips to his once more. Caution thrown to the wind, they began to melt into each other, falling into the embrace and relying on the other for support. It was Fitz who flicked his tongue out to drag across her bottom lip, eliciting a small moan that parted her lips ever so slightly, only to have them falling open to allow him further access.

Their kiss was simultaneously urgent and sensual; slow and searing, impatient and unrefined. There was no finesse as their tongues dueled for dominance that neither wanted to surrender. Fitz's hands made a confusing journey from her cheeks to her waist, back up to slide down her torso and around to grip her bottom and Olivia responded in kind, grabbing the curls at the nape of his neck and dragging her hands down his back. She desperately wanted to feel his skin against hers and was struggling to untuck his shirt. Fitz captured her bottom lip in his teeth and pulled back until it could stretch no further, never breaking eye contact as he released it and began to slowly push the black fabric of her dress down her shoulders.

Olivia's eyes, now a small ring of deep brown surrounding the pupil, silently pled with him to continue. Intent on pleasing her, Fitz tipped his head to kiss her neck, her shoulder, her collarbone, the top of one breast and then the other, letting his lips follow the path of her dress as he slid it down her body, finishing with a light kiss to the inside of her calf as she stepped out of the fabric. When he slithered back up her body, she was practically panting with want, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. Fitz held her at arm's length, taking in her full form in the dim light – clad in only a tiny pair of sheer blush colored panties that left nothing to the imagination – not wanting to be able to forget a single detail later when she couldn't be around. He splayed his hand across her abdomen, feeling what he could not see – a puckered scar running across her belly. His fingers caressed it gently, gingerly, as if he was afraid it would hurt her though it felt healed.

"I had a C-section," she explained quietly, disconcerted that he had noticed. "Two of them, actually."

He continued to touch it lightly, silently reassuring her that she had nothing to be embarrassed about. His hands roamed away from it, traveling the expanse of her flat tummy, wondering just how she was so fit after two children.

"Fitz," she whimpered impatiently and the sound of his name on her lips when she was so out of breath, when he was the cause, prompted him to engage her in another scorching kiss, this time lifting her into his arms. She immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling the full effect she had on him press into her core through his pants and the thin material of her underwear. Desperate for some relief, Olivia ground her hips into him, emitting another moan for him to swallow as he growled quietly into her mouth.

As suddenly as she had been lifted into his strong arms she felt herself being deposited onto the middle of a large bed, the cool sheets contrasting the heat radiating between them. Fitz settled over her supine form, holding his body up as she fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. When she reached the last one before his waistband, she tore at it roughly, causing a few buttons to fly haphazardly as she pushed the shirt open and down his shoulders, reveling in the chance to finally run her hands down his broad chest. She ran her fingers through the coarse hair she found there, exploring the rugged plane of his abs.

Breaking away from the kiss, Fitz began kissing down her body once more, stopping to take one of her hardened nipples into his mouth as his hand began to play around the band of her underwear. Olivia's breathing became more shallow as she struggled to focus on everything he was doing to her, his mouth licking and, every so often, nipping at her décolletage while his fingers began to tease her lower lips. After what felt like hours of torture, he finally slid the rest of the way down her body, now as impatient as she was as he nearly ripped her underwear off and hooked her legs over his shoulders, planting a firm kiss on her mons.

Teasing aside, he gave one long, slow lick up the center of her folds and dove in, tasting her with the necessity of someone who hadn't eaten in days. He held fast to her hips as she grabbed onto his hair once more, threading her fingers through his soft curls. She was fairly certain she was going to have bruises on her hipbones before morning and she couldn't care less; she wanted the mark, the reminder of to whom she truly belonged. Her bottom lip was being bitten raw as she struggled to keep her cries in before she remembered they were alone and when he graced her clit with the slightest of bites, she let her scream echo from the high ceilings. The build was exalting and she was sure nothing would feel superior when he blew gently against her sex and she exploded loudly, back arched almost painfully as she watched fireworks go off behind her eyelids.

As she came back down, slowly letting her body fall back to the bed, Fitz was kissing his way back up her body, wrapping his arm around her to lift up her torso and kiss her again. He tasted so familiarly like him and her and it was a combination she had never expected to love so much as she hungrily kissed him back. He pulled back and smiled down at her.

"Sweet baby," he breathed, and it was more of a question as he positioned his hips between hers. She could feel him, so closely, and at that point she could deny him nothing. She could not deny herself him. She needed him.

Her hands, fingers cramped from holding him so tightly – and she was sure they would be only more so soon enough – came up to frame his face as he stared down at her, waiting for permission he already had, would always have. He didn't need to ask but that he did was endearing.

"_Yes_."

Before the word was even fully out of her mouth he pushed in, and it became two syllables, _Ye-es_, the second a loud cry. He was large, and even though she was practically dripping with want, the fit was snug. He watched her carefully as he continued to slide in slowly, though she winced a few times. The pride that swelled in him was enough to move a few mountains, and he wanted to take her roughly, to claim her as his own. But he would be gentle, and he would take his time because she needed that and, truth be told, he wanted to stay sheathed inside of her for as long as possible.

He began to rock his hips, holding her at the waist as she lay beneath him, letting her feel him from all sides. Her hands found purchase on his shoulders, sinking her blunt nails into the skin there. The pain he hissed through only encouraged him and he began to pick up speed, foregoing the rocking motion for tempered thrusts. Fitz was surprised at all of the control he was exercising but it wouldn't last long, not with her clawing at his back every time he hit just the right spot inside her, not with the pleasing way her face was contorted; eyes rolling back as she struggled to keep them open to watch him, her tiny nose scrunched cutely, mouth gaping in a silent cry as he pounded each moan from her throat.

With a gentleness he dug from deep down, he took her hands in his own, stretching them above her head as he extended his body over her own. Fitz tilted his head down to run his nose along her own, a tender gesture that juxtaposed the erratic movement of his hips which were picking up in tempo, becoming less rhythmic and accelerated. Olivia brought her legs up to wrap tightly around his waist, making a close fit even more compact and creating a delicious friction on the swollen bundle of nerves. They were close, and they could see it in each other, could pinpoint the minute differences in the other's behavior as they neared the precipice together. Olivia had never felt such an unyielding connection to another person and it was overwhelming on top of thing things he was doing to her body. Mentally, spiritually, and now physically they were joined and it hurt so _good_.

The scream she voiced when she came was cut off abruptly as Fitz claimed her lips once more, and, unable to hold on any longer while she pulsed around him, erupted inside of her with a satisfied groan. Neither moved, save for the synchronous heaving of their chests, glistening with sweat. Olivia pried her eyes open with a bit of effort, immediately locking eyes with him. Nothing was said as Fitz kissed her again, softly this time, a bittersweet goodbye. She would probably want to leave, he assumed, go home before it got suspiciously late though it was already nearing one. He began to draw back, pausing as she reluctantly withdrew her legs from around him, and carefully moved so he was kneeling in front of her but out of her way. Something flashed in her eyes; confusion, hurt, then understanding. She understood what he was doing and she cracked a small smile because he was being so dense.

Instead of leaving, as he expected, she crawled to the head of the bed and drew back the blanket, shuffling underneath before silently holding a hand out to him. He followed her lead, climbing under the sheets and turning on his side to wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her tightly to him. If she was going to stay, she was going to be close. Olivia placed her small hand over the one he had resting on her abdomen and settled deeply into the mattress, feeling Fitz snuggle closer yet again, and bury his head in her hair, which was so far beyond tousled now. She wondered, briefly, what she looked like in the afterglow; if she was as radiant as she felt. Then her eyes drifted closed as she realized she didn't really give a damn.

Once her breathing had evened out, Fitz tried to peek around her and confirm she was sleeping without disturbing her. "Livi?" He kissed her shoulder gently when she did not respond, and when there was still nothing, stopped moving altogether, content to just have her in his arms for the next few hours.

Nestled once more in the downy expanse of her disheveled hair, his mouth uttered one more phrase before he, too, slipped into oblivion. "I love you, Livi."

* * *

**A/N: There were so many ways this chapter could have gone and, in the end, I settled on the lesser of two evils. It took me a bit longer than expected to decide which way it was going to go, so I hope it was worth the wait. I even made this chapter a bit longer for you guys, to make up for the last one. Things are definitely picking up between these two, and this was all wonderfully romantic, so of course I've got to bring the hammer down soon because we're only at chapter 7 and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I just wrapped things up this nicely.**

**Also, please be gentle in your reviews because sex scenes aren't really my thing and I was initially going to hit you with a 'fade away' before the action began but these two are so steamy, it practically writes itself. Plus it wouldn't have really worked out, coming back in for an I love you (!). Enough of my talk though. Let me get back to writing. xo**


	8. Chapter 8

As a teenager, Olivia never got to go through her rebellious phase because Lauryn usually ruined things for her. Three years before she had a chance to get away with anything, her big sister would try it first and by the time Olivia got around to that age, her parents would hit her with a stern "Don't even try it because we've been through this before and we know what you're going to do before you even do it." Of course she had done her fair share of partying in college but it lacked the thrill of sneaking behind her parents' backs.

The closest she would probably ever get was sneaking back into her own home without alerting her husband after being out all night. Olivia felt a bit silly as she pulled onto the block, creeping along at 2 mph so as not to alert the nosy neighbors of her arrival, and tip toed to the front door. It most likely wouldn't have felt so bad had she been wearing panties, something no one could tell through the yoga pants she was grateful to have found in her trunk, or had her hair not been tossed wildly on top of her head. But she _did_ smell like Fitz's body wash, an inherently male scent that should have been nowhere near her. And she _was_ walking a bit crookedly. Above all she _felt_ differently, as if her eyes had a new sparkle about them or her skin was still flushed brightly. And Fitz had told her over steaming mugs of coffee in his kitchen that morning – as she lazed about in one of his large t-shirts – that she was positively glowing, but that could have just been him. She had thought he looked the same way when she had awakened to find she had turned over in her sleep so she was facing him and he still had her locked in a tight embrace. The large window above his bed that she hadn't noticed the night before was casting a beautiful glow across his hair and his sculpted jaw had looked so scrumptious she hadn't been able to resist kissing all across it and down his neck until he stirred, locking his arms around her and pulling her on top of him.

And in the early morning light they had made love again, this time with her setting the pace as she rolled her hips on top of him.

She shivered at the memory, fumbling with the keys in the lock as an elderly neighbor walked her brood of yapping pups down the street and cast a few judgmental glances Olivia's way. When she finally managed to make her way inside as quietly as possible, she was greeted by the pleasant sound of Edison yelling into the phone in his office. It was a little after ten a.m. and she wondered if he had already looked for her sleeping form on the couch, or if he had simply not cared enough to search for her. Olivia found herself wondering why she even bothered being so sneaky when Edison came and went as he pleased at all hours of the night and day. He had never come home smelling like another woman's shampoo, of course, though Olivia was pretty positive he had, at some point, stepped outside of their marriage to take care of his needs. She was pretty sure she if could mark the last time they had had sex on a calendar it would fall shortly before she had found out she was pregnant with Connor, two years ago. But she was above traipsing through the home he paid for, fresh from another man's shower and sporting one of his t-shirts. So she slipped up the steps as silently as she could and closed herself in her bedroom.

She was safe; she had made it home in one piece, and virtually unseen. And she had nothing to do. Momentarily she considered crawling back into bed but she had slept so peacefully in Fitz's arms the night before that she was feeling well rested, and a bit restless, despite going to bed late and rising rather early. There was no way in hell she would have been able to relax if she tried because now that she had made it through the perilous journey home and her heart rate had slowed to a normal pace, she had a moment to recall the events of the night before; Fitz, and his bed, and his hands all over her, and the smell of him, and the feeling of his broad chest behind her as she fell asleep and he whispered that he loved her.

It wasn't a dream, contrary to what she had thought when her eyes fluttered open that morning, or a hopeful misconception, which she had gone most of the morning thinking it was. Somewhere on the ride home, between Tenleytown and Friendship Heights, the realization had hit her so hard she had nearly swerved into the next lane. Fitz _loved_ her and it had to be true because he had said it after they had had sex, and he had thought she was asleep, and no one told someone that they loved them with such raw emotion unless they absolutely meant it.

That morning they had moved around each other with such ease, showering together and making coffee with light kisses traded each time they passed one another. It was the type of comfort she wanted in a relationship, and, with the supposed dream fresh in her mind – when she thought back to it, the memory really had seemed too real from the jump; the sensation of his lips on her shoulder, the hoarse quality of his voice – she knew that whatever was between her and Fitz went beyond a mere crush and exceeded lust by a longshot. He loved her, and she was certain that she felt the same way about him and it felt unearthly. The way they made love transcended anything she could have imagined.

Falling onto the top of her own bed, she giggled fiercely, wrapping her arms around herself to snuggle with Fitz's shirt. He had reduced her to this, a giggling, girly mess, after one night together. After thirty-three years on this Earth – over the last fifteen of which she was sexually active – and roughly six years of marriage, she had made love for the first time. The mere thought was foreign to her and she whispered it imperceptibly to the empty room, testing the words as they rolled smoothly off of her tongue.

It had been beautiful and mollifying and completely reckless. In the midst of their passionate union neither had had the good sense to inquire about protection. When she had tentatively brought it up over their breakfast of chopped fruit, Fitz had apologised profusely through her insistences that he was not to blame, they were both adults, and she would handle it. So on the way home she had only stopped once, at a drug store downtown, with an oversized pair of sunglasses concealing her face as she crept along the wall, grabbing a few random snacks along the way to the pharmacy.

Now, back in her own home, Olivia rummaged through her purse until she found the little paper bag and withdrew the cardboard sleeve, quickly removing the two pills from the protective covering and shoving everything else back into her bag. She stared at the little white pills in her palm, feeling an unexpected wave of guilt wash over her. This was never something she expected to have to do again. After exchanging the shirt she was wearing for something that actually belonged to her, and hiding Fitz's in one of her bureau drawers, she made her way back downstairs to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water. Olivia was standing over the sink, head tipped back, pills halfway down her throat, when she heard Edison walk in.

"Are you coming down with something?" he inquired as she took a gulp of water and turned to face him.

"Uh, no. It's just Advil. My head is bothering me." She lightly rubbed her temple for effect and began to walk around him when she felt his hand grab her elbow with a bit more force than necessary.

"Olivia," he said, his voice calm but dripping with a venomous tone that had her frozen in place. "Are you going to tell me where you've been? I know you said not to wait up but I thought you meant you'd be home late, not that you wouldn't be coming home at all."

"I am home," she snapped weakly.

Edison's eyes narrowed and he tugged her to stand directly in front of him, still not letting go of her arm. "Yeah, after staying out all night with God knows who doing God knows what. So let me rephrase that: you _are_ going to tell me exactly where you've been and with whom and why the hell you couldn't be bothered to call."

Olivia squared her shoulders back in an effort to appear more confident than she felt. "I just went to this new lounge to hang out with some friends. I got a little drunk so I went home with Abby."

The lie was believable but the unsure look on Olivia's face had Edison watching her like she had just slapped him. "And I suppose you're going to tell me that Abby uses men's Prada shower gel?"

"Edison, I-"

"Stop. Whatever bullshit you're about to tell me, just stop. I don't want to hear it. You're insulting my intelligence, Olivia, because I'm not fucking stupid."

"Edison-"

"No!" he roared, shaking her a bit where he still had a vice like grip on her forearm. "I said _shut up_. I get that you're not in this, for whatever reason, but that doesn't give you the right to go around acting like a tramp. You're still _my_ wife and I have a reputation to uphold in this city. What if someone I worked with saw you, doing whatever the hell you were doing? Did you ever stop to think about how your actions affect me? No, don't talk. I told you to get it together and you didn't listen so I'll say it again: Whatever pre-menstrual shit you're going through needs to end right now. And you better be over it by this evening because we're going to my mother's for dinner so you can see your children, or have you forgotten about them?"

Without waiting for a reply, Edison let released her arm and stormed back into his office, leaving a flustered Olivia to clutch the edge of the counter while she tried to hold back tears. Once again, he was making her out to be the batty woman with no self-control while he played the victim, but for once, he was right. She had been out, in a city that was much too small for its own good, laughing over dinner with another man, stumbling into his car after a few drinks, eagerly following him up to his apartment only to slip out the next morning so he could drive her to her car. It didn't lessen her annoyance at the way Edison had been treating her – no, she was still plenty pissed at him – but the guilt she felt when he mentioned the children was devastating. She had barely thought about them since they had left. One nagging question echoed in her brain: In being unfaithful to Edison, was she betraying them as well?

* * *

"Mommy! Mommy, look! I drawed this picture but Connor wrote on it."

"Nana took us to the playground, Mama."

"Do you like my new skirt? It's purple."

"Come play cars with me."

"Mommy, you're not looking at me!"

Avery and Connor were circling Olivia's legs in a flurry of little limbs and toys, trying to offer up a week's worth of information before she could fully step through the front door of her in-laws' house.

"Whoa, slow down there," Edison called out, nudging her out of the way and lifting Connor into his arms. "Let your mom take her coat off first."

Olivia shrugged out of her coat and passed it off to Edison, trading it for a squirming Connor. "Hi there," she cooed, kissing both of his chubby cheeks. "Were you a good boy for Nana?"

He nodded heartily. "Yes. I ate all my veggies."

"I'm so proud of you. And what about you, Ms. Avery?" she inquired, kneeling to face her daughter with Connor struggling to snuggle deeper into her arms.

"I was good too," Avery exclaimed, beaming as Olivia pulled her into a one-armed hug on the side Connor wasn't occupying. "Nana got me a pet."

"She did what?" Olivia fought to keep the smile on her face as she rose to face her mother-in-law, who had overseen the whole exchange from the doorway with a tight smile. "Nana didn't ask me if you could have a pet."

Edison's mother regarded Olivia coolly, her smile never faltering. "Seeing as it's in my house, I didn't think I needed your permission."

"Seeing as these are my kids, Judith, and seeing as they live in my house, where I make the rules, I'd say you do."

"Well, since neither the pet – which is a harmless little fish – nor the children are _in_ your house right now, I think I'll carry on with what I was doing," Judith said sweetly, wiping her hands on her apron. "Now, dinner will be on the table in five minutes so please wash your hands. Come on, kids."

When she had scurried back into the kitchen with the kids in tow, Olivia whipped around to face Edison and saw he was no longer there. She assumed he had slipped out of the room as soon as he had noticed the tension in the air. He was probably off with his father, watching the game. Olivia breathed deeply though her nose, ran a hand over her hair, and made her way back to the dining room.

Sitting around the elder Davis's dining room table was right above being stabbed on the list of things Olivia wanted to do. It was always the same story. Judith would spend the entire meal questioning Olivia on any and everything, mainly her abilities as a wife and mother. Henry, Edison's father, was nice enough in his own old fashioned, tough guy way and Olivia actually liked him but he kept his mouth shut when it came to her and his wife because, as he had once told Olivia, "Judy's a wonderful woman but disagree with her and you won't be able to find your heart medicine." And Edison would simply be Edison, but she had enough of that at home.

That night, however, the dinner was tense but Judith remained mostly silent, only speaking up to scold her husband for his eating habits. The kids chatted brightly throughout the meal, Connor sitting in Olivia's lap. As she fed him a spoonful of corn pudding, he turned his face up to her.

"Can we go home after, Mama?" he asked expectantly.

Before Olivia had a chance to reply, Edison jumped in. "Not tonight, buddy. You're going to spend a little more time with Nana and Papa."

"But I don't wanna," Connor whined, standing up in his mother's lap to wrap his little arms around her neck. "I wanna go home."

Olivia shushed him and ran a comforting hand up and down his back, shooting a glare at Edison. "What's wrong with them going home tonight?"

"Later," he warned sternly, focusing on his plate.

Feeling it was in her best interest to revisit the subject momentarily, Olivia finished her dinner in brooding silence. When everyone had finished, she offered to put the kids to bed, and guided them to the back of the ranch house before anyone could protest. They all seemed reluctant to leave her alone with her own kids, and she was fairly certain it was because Edison had painted her as a monster when he had dropped them off the other day.

Olivia helped both kids change into their pajamas and brush their teeth and sat on the edge of the large bed Avery would sleep in, holding Connor in her lap.

"Goodnight, _mes petits choux_," she whispered, tucking Avery in. "Don't worry, you'll be home soon enough." She kissed both of them goodnight and sat in the dark, rocking Connor in her arms until both children drifted to sleep. Olivia tip toed over to the portable crib in the corner and set him down gently before slipping silently out of the room.

Stepping into the doorway of the kitchen, Olivia caught Edison's eyes, shrinking from his mother's peripheral vision, and motioned for him to come on. He smiled at her.

"Liv, come on over. Are the kids asleep?"

With a defeated sigh, Olivia skirted past Judith's icy glare to stand next to Edison, who wrapped an unwelcome arm around her shoulder.

"Yeah, they're sleep," she mumbled grumpily, wiggling away from his grasp. "Can we go talk about this, please?"

Edison raised an eyebrow at her. "My mother can hear whatever you have to say. They're her grandkids, and they will be staying with her."

"Alright, but for how long? Are you two conspiring to keep my kids away from me now?"

"Olivia, dear, hush," Judith interceded. "You're whining and it's unbecoming on a grown woman. Though from what I've heard, you haven't been acting like one recently."

Before Olivia could recover enough to reply, Edison began speaking again.

"Liv," he started slowly, turning to face her full on. "You _have_ been acting a bit weird lately and I was talking to my mom about it-"

"Instead of talking to _me_ about it, you-"

"And," Edison continued loudly, "we got to thinking maybe there's something more to it."

Olivia put a hand on her hip, examining Edison with an irritated expression. "What is it, then?"

"Postpartum depression," Judith quipped, looking a bit too pleased with herself for Olivia's liking.

"Are you kidding me?" Olivia groaned, putting her face in her hands in frustration. "Connor is almost two years old."

Judith began speaking again, and Olivia turned to her, seeing finally that she wasn't going to let up. "Well, darling, we think perhaps you've been struggling with it for some time but are only just beginning to outwardly show signs. We thought it best that the kids stay here while you get some help, and when you're feeling better, they can go right back home."

Olivia looked back and forth between Edison and his mother, mouth gaping. "You guys can't be serious right now. I can't believe what I'm hearing. You're actually going to withhold my own children from me because of some fucked up diagnosis the two of you imagined while gossiping about me?"

"If that's how you want to put, then yes," Edison said in a tone that meant the conversation was over, a tone Olivia only used with her kids. Not one she expected to hear, not as a grown woman, and from her own husband. "So we're going to go home now and there won't be any hysterics." He turned to his mother. "Oh, I almost forgot, the company needs me in Seattle for the next couple of weeks. My flight leaves in the morning."

Acknowledging Edison's announcement with a faint grunt, Olivia stormed out of the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "I'll be in the car."

* * *

**A/N: I don't really have anything to say, just that I hope you enjoyed and that I hope tomorrow's episode doesn't stress me out so much I can't write. We'll be having a little hiatus after that so I won't have any excuse not to update often. And I want to thank you all for your kind reviews; they're truly my motivation, and I love that you guys are so excited about the story. xo**


	9. Chapter 9

Nine days. Fitz counted them off like an inmate counting down his last days in prison. He watched his phone with enough intensity to burn a hole through the screen. He stared at a blank canvas for four consecutive hours, he paced, he had a couple of drinks fresh out of the shower at ten a.m. He wasn't sure how he had made it through those nine days with his sanity, but there he was, on day ten, moping but still somewhat put together.

Nine whole days had gone by since Olivia had left his apartment and in those nine days, he hadn't heard from her once.

On day two he called, only to have the phone go silent after three rings, and on day three he texted her twice. Both went ignored. Fitz knew better than to push her; she valued her space – he could tell that – but most importantly, she had done something she had probably never expected to do. He only hoped that she was off somewhere thinking, as opposed to avoiding him because she regretted what they had done. Because what they had done had been beautiful and magical and after that night, he wasn't sure he would be able to go back to life without her. Olivia made everything, even little, mundane things like chopping fruit, into an adventure. And when she smiled, his heart sang.

The optimistic part of him wanted to believe she was simply overwhelmed but as enamored with him as he was with her. The cynical part of him was conjuring awful scenarios of what could have happened; perhaps she had arrived home and immediately reconciled with her husband, settled back into her agreeable suburban life, and completely forgotten about him. Perhaps it had been a one-time thing; a bored housewife whose husband traveled too much, leaving her unfulfilled. A seven-year itch. He couldn't necessarily blame her if she didn't return his calls because, and he found himself constantly having to remind himself of this, _she wasn't his_. Yet she had given herself so completely to him, mind, body, and spirit. She didn't seem like the type to have casual sex.

Sighing, Fitz poured the last few drops of scotch into a tumbler and threw his head back, relishing the way it burned the back of his throat on the way down.

The alcohol was having a much more intense effect on him since he hadn't had anything to eat all day and he stumbled to the kitchen. The refrigerator, all of the cabinets, and the pantry yielded nothing but a half-eaten box of water crackers and what may have been a lime at some point. He considered ordering in but he would have to go to the store at some point anyway, and he had just downed the last of the scotch. They wouldn't deliver that.

After throwing on a jacket and some shoes, and running a hand through his hair to unflatten the parts he had slept on, Fitz ambled to the door and wrenched it open. The trip would take fifteen minutes, tops, seeing as there was a convenience store just below his building. He kept his head down as he moved through the building and winced at the mid-morning sun and bustling sounds of downtown. Fitz honestly couldn't remember the last time he had been so devastated he had had a drink so early in the morning, and he dipped his head even lower, ashamed at what he must look like. In the store, he quickly grabbed a few essential groceries, some microwave dinners, and a new bottle of his preferred poison and sped through the self check-out.

The elevator seemed to move more swiftly than usual and he found himself leaning onto the wall for support while it jerked to a stop on his floor. When the doors slid open, Fitz could just barely make out the shape of a person standing in front of his door down the hallway. As he crept towards it, he watched the person raise their hand to knock three separate times, only to put it down without doing so. The closer he got, the clearer he could make the person out; the mocha brown skin, silky hair fanning her shoulders, tight jeans hugging a marvelous figure as closely as he wanted to.

"Looking for me?" he called when he was a few feet away, and Olivia turned around, eyes wide.

"Oh! Fitz, hi. I mean, yes, I was."

She stepped aside while he unlocked the door and followed him in, trailing behind him to the kitchen while he sat his grocery bags on the counter, ignoring them completely now that she was there.

"Livi," he breathed, stepping directly in front of her. "I'm so glad you're here. I was so worried that you hated me for what happened and I couldn't live with myself if I'd hurt you." Fitz put his hands on either side of her waist. "You don't hate me, do you?"

Olivia's face softened and she brought her hands up to frame his face, pulling it down so she could look him square in the eye. "No. I could never hate you," she replied firmly and he felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

"Why were you ignoring me?"

She sighed, dropping her arms to her sides and moving away from him to sit on one of the stools at the island. Fitz came to stand between her legs. "I wasn't ignoring you," she began rapidly. "Alright, I was a little bit. But not because of you; I've got a lot to think about, Fitz. I know we've been trying to pretend we live in this bubble where it's just you and me and rainbows and sunshine, but there's so much more to this. I'm married, and I have kids, and while I've been off with you there's been some crazy stuff going on behind my back in my own home. I haven't been doing what I was supposed to, but that ends now. I'm tired of battling and settling for less. I know what I want now and I'm ready to go after it."

"What are you saying, Livi?" he whispered, leaning closer, his heart beat accelerating.

"I'm saying…well, let's be clear. I'm not running from my marriage because of you. I'm not happy, and I want to be happy and _you _make me happy, but this isn't all about you and me. I've got my kids to think of and they're so young. I want this to go off as smoothly as possible, and I know that's asking a lot but it's what's best. And I want you there with me along the way. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I love you too, Fitz."

* * *

Unsure of where one ended and the other began, Olivia moved to drape herself completely over Fitz's lap as they sat on the floor, leaning against his couch. The television was playing some action movie that neither was watching, having muted the sound. They simply stared at each other, beaming emphatically as Olivia ran an affectionate hand through Fitz's hair.

"This is nice," Fitz murmured, nuzzling her neck.

Olivia hummed in agreement. "Yeah, but reality is always quick to set in. We should probably talk at some point."

"What could we possibly have to talk about? You haven't even hired a lawyer yet."

"For one thing," she began, sobering quickly and sitting up, "we're going to discuss why you were drinking before breakfast."

Fitz looked away sheepishly, and Olivia noted the slight blush that spread across his face. "Right, that. I don't normally do that. I was just…having a rough morning."

"Do you want to talk about it?" she questioned sincerely, putting a hand on his face to make him look at her.

Fitz shook his head. "It doesn't really matter anymore. It won't happen again, I promise."

Sighing heavily, Olivia leaned forward until their noses touched. "Don't make promises you can't keep so soon. Just try your hardest, okay?" When Fitz nodded slowly, she sat up again, running a hand through her hair and huffing lightly. "This is going to be a mess, I just know it."

"Do _you_ want to talk about it?"

"It's just that…" she paused, choosing her words carefully. Olivia wanted to keep Fitz in the loop because she wanted him by her side, albeit discretely. What she didn't want was to tell him her husband was labeling her as a mentally unstable mother. If Fitz thought there was even a smidge of truth behind the accusation, he would be running for the hills before she could blink. She didn't, however, want to lie to him. The best way he could help was to be her rock, something he wouldn't be able to do if he had no idea what was going on. "I haven't talked to Edison yet," she admitted, and they both flinched noticeably. She had never said her husband's name around Fitz because it would make everything too real, combining her two worlds. "He's been planning something and I have no idea why because apparently it's been going on for a while now. Since before…this. I don't know what his endgame is, but I'm starting to suspect it was just him trying to keep me in line with his agenda. If I say I want a divorce," she choked out, deploring the way the word tasted in her mouth, "he might take the kids and lock me up somewhere."

"Lock you up?" Fitz asked incredulously, mouth agape. "In jail?"

"Not exactly," she replied with a sigh. "It's not entirely important right now. I guess I should get through broaching the subject with him before I worry about that." Olivia buried her face in Fitz's broad chest, groaning loudly while enjoying his warmth and the comforting feeling of his arms encasing her. "Please don't leave me," she mumbled into his shirt.

"Never."

"You know we won't be able to go gallivanting around the city while this is going down, right?" She sat up, watching his expression warily. Olivia wanted to be very clear. "It would look bad, for my case."

"Do you…not want to see me? Until it's over, that is."

"God, no. I might go craz-" she paused briefly, starting over. "Of course I don't want that. We just have to be careful, I guess. No more – well, no more me coming to your apartment. No more dates in DC or anywhere nearby."

"I'll be like your dirty little secret," he joked, grinning at her. The smile she gave in return lacked humor.

"Not funny, Fitz. That's not what you are at all. But for now, you are a bit of a secret – just until I'm a free woman. Then we can do this right. You can take me on _multiple_ dates before we sleep together and woo me with gifts and chocolate and I'll slowly but surely fall for your advances; like a normal couple."

"Livi?" he whispered, pulling her forward and brushing his lips across her cheeks, her chin, the bridge of her nose, her forehead.

"Yes?" she breathed, eyes sliding shut, hands coming up to grab his shoulders.

Finally, his lips landed lightly on hers. "I don't want normal, okay? I just want you."

* * *

With Edison out of town, Olivia was finding her life to be very peaceful. For the first few days he had been gone, she had been too distraught to notice much, but as the days went on and she began to make some concrete plans for herself, she remarked that it was oddly quiet. And she reveled in it. She gave herself spa treatments, finished reading the two dog-eared books that she had started years ago, experimented with French cuisine and, subsequently, cleaning supplies, and, with a renewed confidence, wrote enough of her own book to exceed the number of pages she needed to send to her publisher. The email she had written in return was equal parts miffed and flattering, then quite demanding as she required one hundred more pages before the upcoming holiday season.

Once Olivia had exhausted the years' worth of do-it-yourself manicure sets she owned, the silence turned into something else entirely. She felt empty, unfulfilled. Her kids were little monsters, yes, but they were _her_ monsters, and while motherhood wasn't her absolute favorite thing, they were her absolute favorite people. She loved them more than anything. They had become such a pivotal part of her schedule that she had no clue what to do without them around. The day after she visited Fitz, she was giddy because she was ready to set her plan in motion – and being around him always gave her butterflies – but something was missing.

On a whim, she called her in-laws and was grateful that Edison's father picked up, answering the phone with a gruff, "Hello," that surely would have sent Judith into a frenzy had she been nearby. Good.

"Hi," Olivia chirped brightly. "It's me, Olivia."

"Oh, I know who this is. You trying to get me in trouble?" he groused, but it was playful, as he usually was. Henry Davis had been a blue collar factory worker, and liked to act very tough when out and about, when in reality he was one of the nicest people Olivia had ever met. He wouldn't take shit from anyone, though. Unless it came to his wife, of course, in which case, he lived only to please her. Olivia knew they loved each other but it wasn't the kind of thing she wanted; not anymore. She wondered if she and Edison had had better examples of healthy relationships growing up, would they still have gotten married. But he had given her the two greatest things in her life, so she couldn't completely hate him, though he was being a complete ass.

"No, Mr. Davis, not at all. I was just wondering what the kids are doing right now."

"At noon, on a Thursday? I imagine they're at school, day care, whatever you kids call it nowadays."

"Right." Olivia felt stupid for calling now, but while she had an in, she was going to go for it. "Well, do you think I could come see them sometime?"

"They are your kids, Olivia. You can come see them whenever you'd like." The awkward silence that followed was broken when they both let out sarcastic snorts of laughter simultaneously. "Look, I'm going to do you this solid because I think my wife and son are being completely inappropriate. I'm gonna cover for you. Pick your kids up today at the usual time, take 'em out to get ice cream or something. Just have them at the house before 6. You've got really good timing; Judith has to go to the doctor today so I was gonna have to pick them up."

"Thank you, so, _so_ much, Mr. Pope." Olivia felt a bit guilty; her father-in-law was a great guy, and she genuinely liked him. She hoped he wouldn't resent her when she left his son.

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't be late."

* * *

There was nothing more pleasing to Olivia than the look on her kids' faces as she walked in to get them. Connor leapt at her from the floor of the playroom so quickly she stumbled back, and a bit later at Avery's school, she was met with near hysterics.

"I missed you so much!" the little girl nearly sobbed, running into her mother's arms, the loosened ribbon that donned the school's colors flapping around her braids.

"I missed you too, my little drama queen." Olivia smoothed Avery's windswept hair and helped her into the car. "Alright, guys," she announced, back in the driver's seat. "We're going to go meet Auntie for some ice cream."

"Will Raymond be there?" Avery crinkled her nose in distaste.

"Stop that, Avi. That's your cousin."

"He's a poop head," she stated matter-of-factly. "He ripped the head off my doll and said I have cooties but I _don't_, right Mommy?"

Olivia chuckled. "Right, baby. I think Ray will still be in school right now, but Shawn might be there. Play nice. Also, no more with the 'poop head'," she ordered as they pulled into the parking space.

Lauryn was already sitting in a booth in the corner looking worn out and wiping ice cream off of her shirt. Olivia greeted her briefly, sitting the kids down and going to get their ice cream.

"Hey, Laurie," she said once she returned, pulling Connor into her lap and giving him a spoonful of her own plain vanilla ice cream. "Where's Shawn?"

"That little hellion is over in the play area, terrorizing someone else for a change," Lauryn grumbled, abandoning the stain on her shirt and pulling her sweater tightly around her. "I swear getting my tubes tied is the best decision I ever made."

"Why are your tubes tied?" Avery asked searchingly, ice cream rimming her lips.

"Wipe your mouth," Olivia directed.

"And stay out of grown folks' business," Lauryn added, to which Avery made a sour face but said nothing. As smart-mouthed as she got with her own parents, it was common knowledge that you didn't cross Auntie Laurie.

"Can I go play?" Avery asked, and Connor perked up, noticing the tiny playroom off to the side. "Me too, Momma," he added excitedly.

Olivia nodded; she would still have a couple of hours to spend with them when they left, but she needed a moment alone with her sister. "Avi, hold your brother's hand and go find Shawn, and _behave_, you two." When they both made it safely to the play area she finally turned to face Lauryn. "How have you been?"

"Tired as hell, as usual. I've got four boys to take care of and they're all sloppy and sweaty and frustrating."

"Four; because your husband is a boy now?"

"He damn sure acts like one. Always playing video games and leaving dishes in the sink," Lauryn grumbled, but Olivia saw the small smile. "You seem to be doing better though. And I think I know exactly why."

Olivia became flustered, her skin warming and her eyes darting around guiltily. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bull," Lauryn snapped. "God, I know you're a prude Olivia but it's okay to admit you _finally_ had sex with your husband. We all know you've done it at least twice. I'm just glad to hear you all are working things out."

"What? Lauryn, no, that's not it at all."

"No? So why do you look so…like you're glowing? You practically skipped through the door and you've had this goofy smile on your face and your shirt slipped a little in the front so I can totally see that hickey."

Taken aback, Olivia gasped quietly, clamping a hand over what she knew to be the purplish bruise Fitz had so deliberately left on her that morning as she had squealed in protest. Sure enough, the fabric of her shirt had fallen just enough to reveal the edge; only a glimpse, but enough to identify exactly what it was. "It's not-" Olivia stopped abruptly. There wasn't much she could say to her sister that would look good at that moment. If she told her she was asking Edison for a divorce, Lauryn would surely know it wasn't him who had given her the love bite. And if she went along with Lauryn's assumption, she would have to put the topic of conversation she had intended for them on hold.

As per usual, Olivia didn't have to come up with a reply because her perceptive older sister slapped a hand on the table loudly and almost jumped from her seat, tipping the table on its legs. A few patrons gave them nasty looks, and Olivia gave them apologetic glances.

"You didn't," Lauryn whispered, sitting back down and leaning across the table. "You _didn't_," she silently shrieked when Olivia's only reply was a downward cast of her eyes. "Oh my _God_, you did."

"It's not what you think."

"So you didn't hook up with highway guy?" Lauryn quirked an eyebrow, daring Olivia to say otherwise.

"I didn't hook up with him," she answered honestly, letting the implications of her words hang in the air and resisting the urge to correct her with a snarky, _and his name is Fitz_.

"You did what then? Kissed him with some heavy petting? Just because it's less wrong doesn't make it right, Olivia."

"Stop patronizing me. You won't even shut up long enough to hear me out. I'm going to ask Edison for a divorce."

"And that makes it okay to go jump in whoever's bed? You haven't even had the papers drawn up yet."

"It's not like that," Olivia said sternly. "But this isn't about me and Fitz. I'm only telling you this because I'm going to need some help. Edison and Judith are being Edison and Judith right now and it's going to screw up my plan if I don't handle it. You've gotten divorced before; can you help me?"

When her imploration was only met with judgmental silence, Olivia's eyes began to water. If her own sister wasn't going to be in her corner, she really had no one else. "Please, Laurie. This is about me, and my happiness. I don't want to be in this marriage anymore. It's tearing me apart."

"Fine," Lauryn huffed, clearly still displeased. "I'm going to help you because I love you, even if you are going about this the completely wrong way. I'm not happy about this other guy though, Liv. You should stay away from him, at least until the ink dries, alright?"

"Yes, alright." Olivia used a callous napkin to dab at her eyes just as the kids walked over. "Thank you," she mouthed as they slid into the booth, already bored with whatever they had been doing.

"We'll talk later. _After_ you talk to your husband."

* * *

**Sorry I was out of commission for so long but I'm back now! Olivia has had time to think and she's ready to ask for that divorce. Perhaps Edison will be very eager and give her what she wants immediately. Perhaps not. One makes for a more interesting story. Next update will come sooner. xo**


	10. Chapter 10

By the day Edison was scheduled to arrive home, Olivia had bitten her normally well-manicured nails down to frayed stubs. She had spent so much time running her fingers through her hair that it would no longer lay down properly, and she found herself empathizing with Fitz as she cradled a rather large glass of wine in her hands. Her heart thundered in her chest as she sat on the couch, picking at a loose thread on her pants with her free hand. More than once she had considered calling Fitz but she knew she needed to do this on her own. It was past time, she felt, and she was a grown woman who could take care of herself. Still, she wished she had someone there with her as backup. Her last interaction with Edison hadn't ended well, or started well, for that matter and knowing him, she knew he would still be indignant. He had every right to be, but so did she. What she had done was wrong, but for years Edison had been undermining and belittling her. That would end tonight, and she was going to get over whatever fears she had about it. She could _do_ this.

When his key turned in the lock, she jumped in her seat, sloshing a bit of wine onto her wrist. The door opened, and she heard his shoes on the linoleum, and the wheels of his suitcase, but he didn't call out to her. Either he thought she wasn't there or he was ignoring her. He would see the open bottle of wine on the counter, the light shining in the sitting room, but he went directly upstairs. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Olivia squared her shoulders and sat her glass on the coffee table before getting up to follow him. The bedroom door was closed and she walked in without hesitating; she had made it this far, no use having second thoughts.

Edison paused, his shirt halfway unbuttoned. "Don't you knock?"

"This is my room, too," she pointed out, not meanly, tugging lightly at the high, bunched collar of her sweater. Olivia didn't imagine there was really such a thing as a friendly divorce, but she wanted hers to be as cordial as possible. "I need to talk to you about some stuff."

He resumed undressing himself, moving over to the closet. "Okay, I'm listening."

"Well," she began slowly, already searching for something else to say, to break the ice. "How was your trip?"

She heard him scoff. "Cut the crap, please, Olivia. I've had a long flight and my head hurts and I'm tired. What do you want?"

"Sorry," she mumbled, and she could have slapped herself. She wasn't supposed to be showing weakness. "Before I forget, we have to get the application for Avery in by December 15th, so I need you to write the check for the application fee."

"Application for what?"

"She starts kindergarten next fall. At Sidwell. You know this, Edison."

"Yes, I know she's starting kindergarten in the fall, but why would I pay college tuition for that when we live in the top state with the number one school system?"

"Because," Olivia snapped, "she's your daughter and we want the best for her. I went to Sidwell and I loved it. I think she'll fit in well."

"I went to public school and I turned out just fine," Edison reminded her haughtily and she couldn't help the sour look that passed over her face.

"You turned out an ass," she mumbled, and then louder, "We already discussed this, Edison. Why are you changing your mind now?"

"I never agreed to it," he stated, emerging from the closet and sitting on the edge of the bed in front of where she stood. "I said it was a good idea and that if we were Kennedys or lived in the White House, _then _our kids could go to there. And you got upset and demanded that I go along with whatever you were saying because you're always right and then you stormed away so I couldn't reply. But that's not what you wanted to talk to me about just as I'm walking in the door at one in the morning, is it?"

Olivia hoped she succeeded in hiding her exasperation, pursing her lips in an attempt to look disapproving. She regrouped quickly, donning a somber expression. "No, it's not. This isn't easy for me to say, and it's not going to be easy to hear, but it is past time for this to be done. I want a divorce."

Of all the reactions Olivia had prepared for, the one she received was not one of them. She had prepared for rage, indifference, and even content. That was why when Edison threw his head back and roared with laughter, she flinched, surprised and confused and a bit scared. And he thought it was hilarious, she found, as he clutched his stomach and shook forcibly.

"This isn't funny," she said forcefully once he had calmed down a bit. "I'm being serious."

All at once grave and composed, Edison hardened his eyes and stared her down. "Oh, I know, dear. That's the funny part. It is truly hilarious to me that you think I would just let you run off. We've been over this, Olivia; I have an image to uphold. And my wife leaving me to shack up with some pretty boy artist who couldn't make it as a business man is _not _good for my image." At Olivia's awed expression, he chuckled humorlessly. "Did you really think I wouldn't find out, Liv? I told you this city is too small. I have friends in high places, and they watch out for me. Thank God they didn't suspect anything. A few of them just mentioned seeing you two together, out to dinner and even at his office. After your little wild night out, it was only a matter of time before I put two and two together. How long you two been screwing?"

Olivia certainly had not planned for this; for him to know about Fitz, and to hold onto the information. There was no use denying it, but also no need to address it. "This isn't about that. This has absolutely nothing to do with him and everything to do with you and me," she lied, but it sounded firm and true to her own ears. Fitz had had quite a bit to do with it. "This is about me being tired of you treating me like your subordinate and not like your partner. And it's about me not loving you and not being happy here. So please don't fight me on this. If we do this right, we can both come out looking squeaky clean. Your reputation will remain intact. We can work things out, set up a plan for custody; it will be simple and peaceful as long as you make it that way."

"I'm afraid not."

"What the hell does that mean? You want to fight me on this? You barely see your kids as it is and now you want to take me to court over them because your ego is bruised?"

"No, what I'm saying is, you're not going anywhere, Olivia. You're not taking my kids because you're not leaving me. End of story."

"_Not _end of story," she spat, beginning to lose her poise. "You can't just tell me no, Edison. I'm still going to file. I contacted a lawyer and she should be getting back to me in the next few days. She can draw the papers up and-"

"And I will tear you apart in a court room; depict you as the emotionally unstable adulterer in the marriage. I travel a bit, yes, but any judge would rather give two small children to a loving home with their financially secure father who has the full support of his parents behind him than to you. They might let you have a few scheduled visits, once you've completed court mandated therapy for the depression you've let go untreated for over a year."

"No one who knows me well will get up there and say I've been acting depressed."

"My mother will, and she was a social worker, so I'm sure they'll listen to what she has to say. Your own kids can attest to the fact that you verbally abused them."

"You would put your own children on the stand? They're babies, Edison!" Olivia cried, not wanting to believe he would do such a thing, but not holding him above it either.

"I'll do what I have to do."

"You're full of shit," she threatened, daring him with her eyes.

Edison shrugged. "Maybe. But do you really want to take that chance? Listen to me, Olivia. I won't have you jeopardizing all of my hard work because you can't always have it your way. So we'll compromise. No divorce. You're my wife; I paid for that goddamn ring on your finger. You'll do your wifely duties, which will be limited to making me look good. And if you want to keep fucking that guy, I won't stop you. He seems like he can be discrete and if regular sex keeps you happy, all the better."

Narrowing her eyes, Olivia hissed, "And what the hell makes you think you can just make these decisions for me?"

"Well you don't have much of a leg to stand on right now. It's not looking too good for you at the moment on the other side of this. Also, let's not forget who found that publisher for you. I _made_ you. And I can ruin you, or I continue to help you as long as you continue to help me. It's give and take."

"There is _nothing_ 'give and take' about this. This is you trying to dictate my life."

"Our life."

"I don't want anything to do with you."

"You say that," Edison replied nonchalantly, "and you might even mean it. But you don't have much of a choice." He stood up, brushing his hands together as if he had just finished a difficult job, and walked past Olivia's trembling form. Pausing at the door, he turned to look at her back. "By the way, if you talk to Fitzgerald, tell him to tell his dad I said hi." With that, he slammed the door shut.

Fuming, Olivia whirled around and grabbed the first thing her hand came in contact with on the dresser, a picture of her and Edison on their honeymoon, and flung it at the wall. The silver frame remained intact but the glass cover shattered noisily as it bounced to the carpet. Olivia didn't bother trying to hold back the angry tears pooling in her eyes, ignoring them as they slid down her heated face. Edison had seen it coming, he had known about her and Fitz, he had made awful things up about her and thrown them in her face without a second thought. He couldn't be serious, she thought, but it had really seemed so. He was going to put up a fight, and a nasty one at that, but she could get nasty, too. If a battle was what he wanted, she would give it to him, and she come at him with everything she had. And if he was going to play dirty, then so would she.

* * *

Olivia had communicated with Lauryn solely through email following their conversation at the ice cream shop, requesting information about the divorce lawyer. At the bottom of one message, Olivia had inquired as to whether her sister was still upset with her or not. The question had gone unanswered. The day after her confrontation with Edison, she called Lauryn's cell phone several times before finally dialing the house number.

"Who is this?" one of the boys answered brusquely.

"Don't you answer my phone like that," Lauryn shouted from another room.

The boy – Olivia recognized his voice now as Raymond's – sucked his teeth and said sweetly, "Hello, Taylor residence. Who may I ask is calling?"

"Hello, Ray."

Oh, hey Aunt Liv. Do you want to talk to Mom?"

"Yes, please."

Without turning his head away from the receiver he shouted, "Ma! Aunt Liv is on the phone."

Olivia could hear bustling in the background, followed by a loud smack and Lauryn saying sternly, "Stop yelling in the damn house. Hello, Olivia?"

"Laurie," Olivia said nervously. "Um, I did it. It didn't go as well as I planned, though."

Lauryn sighed. "I'm sorry to hear that, Liv. So what are you going to do now?"

"What do you mean? I'm going to go through with it; obviously I just need to revise my plan a bit. He wants to do this the hard way."

"So you're really going to do this, huh?

"Of course I am," Olivia replied, a bit taken aback. "I told you, I'm not happy in this marriage. It's hurting me and my kids."

"It has nothing to do with that guy?" Lauryn pried.

"It's not that simple."

"So explain. I'm a grown woman, I can handle whatever you have to tell me. And I'm not judging you, Liv. I'm just…surprised, I guess. You're my baby sister and I love you and I don't want to see you hurting."

"Then you should be happy for me. I'm taking steps to stop hurting. My marriage is falling apart and so I'm going to get out of it before I end up like Mom and Dad, holding on to something that is long gone. It's not good for the kids. And Fitz, he really makes me happy. Like, stupidly happy. You of all people have to get that; you were married once before."

"Yes, but I got married at nineteen, when I was stupid and immature and wanting to rebel. Luckily, I summoned enough sense to get out quickly."

"Just because you were younger than I am now doesn't make me any less deserving of being able to pursue what I want in life."

Lauryn took a deep breath, dropped her voice to a whisper. "Do you love him?"

After a pregnant pause, Olivia lowered her voice as well, though she was alone in the house. "Yes. I know we haven't known each other long, but I do. I want to be with him, but know that it's not my number one priority. Not until after the divorce, when things have settled down."

"When are you going to tell the kids?"

"When I've got something to tell them. They're too young to understand so I don't want to make it a big deal until we're actually signing papers and splitting up the furniture. And, you know, when we've got a custody agreement."

"I'm guessing since it didn't go well, he's probably going to fight you for full custody?"

"Yep, the bastard. I would never try to keep him away from the kids. I'm thinking I'd get a little more than half, though, since I have more time on my hands to take care of them."

"You also have no income," Lauryn pointed out, making Olivia groan.

"I do so. I have the royalty checks from my first book – however small they may be – and my savings account is well-off. It's not like my belongings are boxed up and waiting by the door. Baby steps."

"Alright, Liv," Lauryn said, sounding impressed. "Sounds like you've got it all worked out. I'm sorry I didn't give you more credit. And I'm sorry I made you feel like you're alone in this, because you're not. I love you, and I'll always be here for you. Whatever you need right now, just say it."

"How about you run down to the Davis' and tell Judith to go to hell?" Olivia teased, grinning.

"Hell no, that woman is crazy. You better get your own ass over there before she starts feeding my niece and nephew the same lead paint chips she obviously let her son ingest as a child."

"I know, and I hate to admit this but I think they might be better off over there for a minute. As much as I despise Judith right now, she loves them and she takes good care of them. Things are about to get…vitriolic in my household. They don't need to be around for that. So I'll let them be for the moment, until things cool down. I'm still going to go over there every once in a while and make sure she's not brainwashing them."

"Yes, you do that. If they start acting like that woman, I'm never babysitting for you again. But Liv? Do me a favor?"

"What is it?" Olivia asked curiously, elated that her relationship with her sister was still intact and pleasant.

"Tell me the story behind that hickey."

"Never."

Lauryn groaned. "Where is the fun in you getting some if I don't get to hear about it? Don't I tell you all about my sexy times?"

"Yes, you do. Even when I beg you not to, you go into vivid detail and tell me things I wish I never had to know."

"That's what sisters are for, to tell personal things to without being looked at funnily. But fine," Lauryn relented, and Olivia could picture her pout through the phone, "you don't want to tell me about your kinks, I won't force you. Just tell me; how was it? Was he as good as you imagined?"

Olivia smirked, feeling a tingle start between her legs at the memory. "_Better_. And that's all I'm going to say about it." The phone beeped in her ear, signaling another call, and Olivia peered at the screen, seeing the initials _FTG_ flash on the screen. "Laurie, that's my other line. I'll call you back later, okay?"

"Don't call me unless you've got a good story to tell," Lauryn griped. "Oh, hell, Shawn just fell off the swing set again. Talk to you later, Liv."

The line went dead and Olivia connected the incoming call, greeting Fitz.

"You sound happy," he said hopefully. "Does that mean…"

"Not exactly. This is going to be a bit more of a challenge than I expected. But I'm not going to let it get me down. I have too much to be happy for right now."

"Oh yeah, like what?" he asked teasingly.

Simpering, Olivia reclined on her lounge chaise, propping up her feet. "Well, let's see. I've got a lot to look forward to. I'm about to change my life for the better. My sister just told me she hasn't lost respect for me. The holidays are coming up, and it's my favorite time of the year. I just had a very nice breakfast. Oh, and you called. That was pretty nice."

"I'm glad I could contribute to the brightening of your day, then. Speaking of the holidays, do you think we'll have a chance to hang out at all?"

"I don't know, Fitz." Olivia bit her lip, thinking. "It seems risky. What did you have in mind?"

"Glad you asked, my dear. There's a light show at the harbor in Annapolis every year, I was thinking we could head down there. It's far enough away, but we can wear big hats and sunglasses or something."

"You mean like disguises?" Olivia asked with a laugh. "I guess we can talk about it."

"Please, Livvie," Fitz implored with a slight whine. "I promise it'll be fun and we can have a seafood dinner while we're out. And there's this place that has the greatest cookies you will ever taste in your life; gooey, warm and homemade."

"Well when you put it that way, how can I say no?"

"You can't that was the point. Now, do you want to tell me about how things are going to be more challenging?"

Olivia thought about what Edison had said, how he had explicitly given her permission to continue seeing Fitz in the crudest way possible. And he had done it in the midst of threatening her. Then he had told her – had insinuated, but she was fairly certain as to what he meant – that he expected her to get Fitz to talk his father into signing a contract with Edison. Like what they had was nothing more than a cheap fling, a manipulation, when it was so much more. Edison wouldn't understand that, of course. All he saw was dollar signs in her panties.

"Not yet," replied quietly. "I will, but not right now. I'm happy right now. I don't want to ruin that."

Fitz paused. "Alright," he said slowly, sounding unsure. "I won't push you, but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

"Of course." The words were automatic to Olivia. She did know that she could talk to Fitz; what she would tell him, out of all the craziness surrounding her, was the issue.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, finally, another update. It's only been a few days but it feels like forever to me. I want them to be near perfect for you guys so I spend a lot of time worrying about what's going to happen next and how to tell it.**

**In this chapter, we have a spouse who is a bit too reluctant to let go, and who has essentially admitted to being married for the sole purpose of getting ahead in life (sound familiar?). Edison _is_ a jerk. Luckily, Olivia has Fitz and her sister on her side. Trust me, they're going to be her support system. Also you can see I've been trying to Karen-and-Jerry the kids because I feel things will be smoother without them running around. They're just too young to send to boarding school. Don't worry, Judith won't have her hands on them for long. xo**


	11. Chapter 11

**A little warning: things get kind of rough at the end of this chapter. There is a bit of violence, nothing too critical, but it's a bit intense and the language is crude.**

* * *

The dapper man standing before her made Olivia's confidence at winning her upcoming battle soar; he was undoubtedly handsome, with a smile that could charm the panties off of nuns, and his eyes showed off a determination that signaled he never, ever lost. It was exactly the kind of thing she would need in a lawyer, especially going up against whatever Edison had cooking up. He was a partner in the same firm Lauryn's lawyer had retired from years earlier and, coincidentally, a friend of a friend of Olivia's from college. His grey suit fit him perfectly and the colorful tie he sported made him seem relatable, like he was just a normal everyday guy as opposed to the vicious attorney people made him out to be. And Olivia had to admit, he didn't seem very vicious – a little flirty maybe, but nothing about him screamed danger. Perhaps it snuck up on you when you least expected it, in which case, she thought, perfect. She wouldn't rouse that sleeping snake until she really needed him to spring into action and bite Edison in the ass.

The lawyer straightened his tie and offered his hand over the large desk that separated them. "So are we in business, Mrs. Davis?"

She took his hand, wincing at his tight grip as he shook it. "Call me Olivia. And yes, Mr. Wright, I believe we are."

The charming smile he wore widened. "Good. In that case, you can call me Harrison. Now, we've got a lot to discuss and I believe that the sooner we do it, the better," he said his smile dropping significantly and his tone evening out. He effortlessly switched into business mode. "So let's get to it. We'll start with finances. How many bank accounts are there between the two of you?"

Olivia began to list them off the top of her head. "There's Edison's savings account, which is a joint account but no one touches it. It's for emergencies mostly. Then we have a smaller account that we both use for business transactions, Edison has another account, I have one that he puts money into every month or so, the kids each have a college savings account, and," she leaned forward, lowering her voice as if they weren't in a private office with a door big enough to mute the sounds of nuclear warfare, "I have another one in my maiden name. It's some money my grandparents left me and my royalty checks. Edison doesn't know about it, though."

Harrison lifted an eyebrow at her. "Alright. So you're pretty well-off then, financially independent?"

"Yes, of course I am. I like to be prepared for things, emergencies. If something ever happened to Edison or me, you know."

He nodded. "I don't think you're the type of woman to marry a man for money but I have to ask this. Are you looking to get a certain amount out of this agreement?"

"No," Olivia replied immediately, very sure of herself. "That's not what this is about. I'm not trying to get anything from him. I just want out."

"And you want your kids."

She looked at him oddly. "Well of course, who doesn't? I'm not going to try to steal them away from their father, if that's what you're implying. He has as much a right to see them as I do. But he works all of the time, and travels a lot. Two small children need a stable home with a parent who can be there for them more often."

Pulling a notebook from his desk drawer, Harrison began to scribble something down. "So we're talking joint custody, but you'll have them for a longer period of time." He looked up from the paper to meet her eyes. "It should be easy, Maryland has a soft spot for mothers. If he decides to contest the settlement we draft, that is."

"I'm just going to stop you right there. He's not going to want to sign it."

The lawyer sat back in his large leather chair, resting his elbows on the armrests and interlocking his finger below his chin. "In that case, this might be a bit more of a challenge than I expected. Maryland is a fault divorce state, meaning unless you can prove your husband has committed some kind of crime or broken your vows, you won't be able to get divorced immediately. In order to get a no-fault divorce, you'll have to live apart for a full year before the court will agree to it. The vibe I'm getting from you is that you want out of this marriage as soon as possible. So tell me, is there anything you've got on the illustrious Edison Davis that can be used to expedite this process?"

"Not exactly. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if it turned out he had a woman waiting for him in each state, but I don't have anything to prove it. And he's never hit me or the kids." Olivia bit her lip nervously, averting her eyes. "There is something…"

"About you?" He didn't sound surprised, as if he had been expecting her to bring it up. "Yeah, you might want to tell me about that now."

"He's been on this thing recently about me being 'emotionally unstable' and trying to say I've been struggling with post-partum depression for a year. Which I'm not, at all, but he seems to think it will work if he brings it up, or at least make me want to give up." She sat up straighter, rolling her shoulders back. "I'm not going to, so he can try whatever he wants but it won't work."

Scribbling in his notebook once more, Harrison didn't look up from his paper when he asked her, "Anything else I should know about?"

Shock darted across Olivia's features, her body stiffening. She saw that Harrison noticed it from the corner of his eye, even when she tried to play it off.

"Olivia," he began sternly, "if we're going to do this, we have to work together. So I'm going to need you to tell me everything, because anything that he can use against you needs to be resolved before he gets the chance. Now, is there something else you need to tell me about?"

She looked at him dejectedly. "I slept with another guy. It was only once, but Edison found out about it."

"Have you seen him since?"

She considered lying but the look on his face let her know to do so would not be wise. "Yes."

"Is he the reason you want to get divorced?"

"No."

The expression on Harrison's face was unreadable and Olivia grew agitated watching him regard her. If he didn't believe her, would he refuse to help her anymore? She immediately felt stupid for what she had done with Fitz. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "Is this going to ruin things for me?"

"Under normal circumstances, almost definitely." A grin broke out on Harrison's face, a glimpse of the ruthless lawyer lying dormant peering through. "Luckily for you, you've got me as your lawyer. And I love a challenge."

* * *

"What do you think of this one?" Lauryn leaned over Olivia's shoulder, inspecting the listing her younger sister was indicating.

"In that neighborhood? Try again," Lauryn instructed, wrinkling her nose and returning to the kitchen sink where she resumed washing vegetables. "I'd advise you to stay nearby, so the kids still have familiar surroundings."

Olivia used her fingers to rapidly flip through the pages of the real estate magazine, watching the pictures go by in a blur. "I could rent a townhouse in another neighborhood for half the price of an apartment in Rockville," she groused, finding the section that listed apartments near her current neighborhood. "I don't need a doorman or a movie theatre. I just want three bedrooms, two baths, and space for an office. And I'd like it sooner rather than later."

Lauryn dropped the pepper she was rinsing onto a cutting board and began chopping. "So you'll really have to wait a year, huh?"

"It's a possibility," Olivia sighed. "Do you need some help with that?" At her sister's nod, she rose from the stool and grabbed a cucumber, peeling it over the sink. "Harrison says he can find a way around it, if that's what it comes down to."

"All you need is to get some dirt on Eddie."

"You know he hates it when you call him that."

"When have I ever cared about that man's feelings?" Lauryn scoffed, pushing the pepper aside and grabbing the newly peeled cucumber from her sister. "You should set him up, make him do something so dirty they'll rush to get you away from him."

Olivia's jaw dropped as she looked at her sister in disbelief. "I can't do that to him, Laurie," she insisted, but the thought stuck with her. "I can't, right? That would be wrong. It would be awful. Unforgivable. I'm not that kind of person."

"You might want to rethink that. What are the grounds for fault divorce again?"

Using her fingers to tick each one off, Olivia began to list them. "Desertion, cruelty, adultery – don't give me that look, Laurie – conviction of a crime and excessively vicious conduct."

"Those all sound pretty vague. Hand me the mixing bowl out of that cabinet, Liv." Olivia grabbed the large wooden bowl and set in on the counter, watching her sister begin to dump the salad fixings into it. "Excessively vicious conduct? Sounds rather objective to me. If he's ever yelled at you a little too loud, or grabbed you a bit too roughly, you can totally use that."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Olivia gazed wistfully out the tiny window above the kitchen sink, watching her children and her nephews chase each other around the backyard. "But like you said, it's all pretty objective. Meaning it's whatever the court wants it to be."

"Desertion, then. What are the details behind that one?"

"One spouse has to leave abruptly and without contact for a full year. Edison is gone eighty-five percent of the time but he calls, and he pays for stuff. And, most importantly, he comes home. So that wouldn't work."

"Check on the turkey, will you?" Lauryn waved a wooden spoon in the direction of the oven as she moved in the opposite direction, pulling pans of food from the refrigerator. "Then put these in to warm up. Anyway, what's your plan in the meantime?"

Bending over the open oven, Olivia shielded her eyes from the heat, using a hand towel she found on the counter to remove the turkey pan and inserting the indicated metal pans of macaroni and cheese and homemade rolls. "In the meantime, I'm going to move out so if I do end up having to wait the full year, I can get a head start. Then I'm going to find out exactly who Edison communicates with when he goes out of town."

"You think he's having sex with someone else?"

Olivia scoffed. "You think he's not? It's been almost two years since we've...touched each other at all, really. At first he was always bothering me to do it, and complaining about a deadly case of blue balls. Then one day he came back from a trip and instead of hopping into bed with me and whining about it, he just went to sleep. I thought maybe he was just coming to terms with it but, I don't know, I guess I realized that was rather unlikely."

"Are you gonna, like, hire a private investigator?" Lauryn questioned, putting the finishing touches on the salad.

"Something like that. I know a guy." Olivia smirked, turning away from the window. "Are you ready?"

Wiping her hands on a towel, Lauryn surveyed the kitchen. "Yeah, call 'em in. How did your mother-in-law feel about you not letting her see her precious grandbabies on Thanksgiving?"

Shrugging, Olivia raised the small window and called out to her oldest nephew. "Ray, bring everyone in. It's time for dinner." Disappointed groans were carried to the house on a passing breeze, and the kids began to trudge towards the door, Connor leading with a quick toddle towards his mother, latching onto her legs as soon as he made it to her. Olivia lifted him into her arms, turning back to her sister as the rest of the kids trickled in and began to shed their coats.

"I guess she'll just have to deal with it."

* * *

"Mommy, I want that one." Olivia looked down at her daughter and followed the child's wide eyed gaze to a Douglas fir that looked to be about thirteen feet tall.

"Try again, baby. Something a bit smaller," Olivia suggested, taking Avery's hand and leading her towards a patch of trees that would fit through their front door. "How about this one?" She extended a gloved hand to check the price tag on a more appropriately sized tree. "I like this one. It's nice and bright and full."

Avery pouted, crossing her arms difficultly in her padded pink coat. "That one is a close second."

Grinning, Olivia patted the little girl on the head. "Second best it is, then." She flagged down a sales guy who helped her load the tree onto the roof of her car, tying it down with string. After checking that it would hold for the ride, she loaded Avery into the backseat and turned the car towards home. "Are you excited to decorate the tree, Avi? It's your turn to put the angel on top this year."

"Can we have a Tinkerbell tree, Mommy?" she asked hopefully, rifling through a coloring book sitting on the seat.

"You know what, baby, I don't think your dad and brother would like that very much. How about we just have a colorful tree, like last year? And we'll go out and buy a Tinkerbell ornament just for you to put on."

"Okay," Avery replied, completely satisfied with the small offering. "Mommy, do we have to go back to Grandma and Grandpa's house soon?"

"No, sweetie, you guys are gonna stay at home with me and your dad. Were you having fun with Grandma and Grandpa?"

Avery made a face that Olivia caught in the rearview mirror. "No, it's boring there. I'm ready to come home."

Olivia began to smile a bit. She was happy that Edison had finally stopped trying to fight her about the kids, though hadn't budged on any of the other matters. It had a move of appeasement, if anything; something he thought would shut her up long enough to forget about everything else. For now she was keeping quiet, until she had a bit more to work with. She was starting to tour apartments in the area, and Harrison had been working diligently to draw the papers up. The estimation was that they would be ready to serve just after the new year, which was perfect. It gave Olivia enough time to figure out what to say to the kids, though she was mostly concerned about Avery's reaction. Connor wasn't old enough to understand much, yet.

They rode the rest of the way in near silence, listening to the hum of the motor and the quiet Christmas tune playing on the radio. Pulling into the driveway, Olivia honked the horn once, quickly, alerting Edison to their arrival. He was at the door just as she was coming up the walkway with Avery.

"Do you need any help with the tree?" she asked him as they passed.

He grunted, examining it from the doorway. "Nah, I've got it. Are you decorating it tonight? I already put Connor down."

"I was thinking _we_ would do it tomorrow night, as a family." She gave him a pointed look. "Just get it into the house and in the stand. I'm going to put Avery to bed," Olivia called over her shoulder as she removed her winter wear and hung it in the coat closet.

"Aw, do I have to go to bed?" Avery whined from the floor, struggling with the laces on her boots.

Olivia kneeled to help her. "Yes. You're still in school. Just another week or so, though. Now run upstairs and get in your pajamas. I'll be up in a few." She slid the shoes from Avery's feet and watched the little girl pad off in her mismatched socks.

After peering in to make sure Connor was sleeping peacefully and planting a kiss on his head, Olivia made her way into Avery's room. She read two bedtime stories and adamantly refused to do a third, instead giving in to the request to rub the little girl's back until she fell asleep. When the bedtime ritual was done – something Olivia hadn't realized she would actually miss – she absentmindedly wandered down the hallway to her bedroom. The door swung open to reveal Edison, already tucked into bed and typing something on his phone. He looked up at her oddly for a brief moment.

"I'm just getting my pajamas," she assured him, holding her hands up in surrender as she moved towards the dresser.

"Olivia, you don't have to sleep on the couch," he said disdainfully. "This is your room too, just like you said."

"I'm not sleeping in the same bed as you, Edison, so forget about it. You're not going to move, and I'm fine with that. The couch is comfortable enough."

"Afraid of cheating on your boyfriend?" Edison remarked suggestively, raising an eyebrow at her.

Olivia grimaced but granted him no reply, rummaging through the drawers so she could change in the downstairs bathroom.

"Come on, Liv. I'm your husband and you won't even lay down in our own bed with me." His tone dropped to a snarl. "Wow, he must have really fucked you well. It's kind of ironic, don't you think? They say white men can't jump and yet here's one, jumping all over what's mine." When she still wouldn't turn to look at him, he continued baiting her. "Hey, tell me something. Is he bigger than me?"

"You're disgusting," she hissed, rounding on him quickly only to find him standing right in front of her.

"What? I'm just asking. I think I deserve to know what I'm up against. So tell me, what is it that he does that's so special?"

"He's not an ass hole, that's for damn sure." Olivia moved to storm out of the room but a strong hand wrapped around her arm, just above her wrist. Her head whipped around to find Edison staring at her, eyes blazing. "Let go of me. I'm so fucking through with you right now."

"You can't even do this for me, Liv? You go off and fuck some other guy and leave me completely unsatisfied and I don't even get the common courtesy of hearing about it? That seems a little unfair."

Jerking her arm away to no avail, Olivia glared at him, nostrils flaring. "You are a sick man."

Edison shrugged his free arm. "I just have a healthy curiosity. And you are my _wife_," he punctuated the word by tugging her forward an inch, "so I have a right to know. Do you talk dirty to him? I feel like you can have a really filthy mouth when you want to."

"Fuck you."

He smirked. "That's what I thought. I bet you guys have done it in every position. It's been so long since you've let me touch you, Liv, you were probably bursting at the seams. You probably rode him for hours; I know you've got strong legs. How else? On your knees? Did you swallow when he told you to? You never were very good at following instructions, but that was one of the few commands I remember you performing rather eagerly."

Olivia choked back a sob, still trying to tug her arm from his grip. "Let me go, Edison. Stop this."

"I know you bent over for him. That was always your favorite, getting fucked from behind and having your hair pulled. Did you beg for it harder, faster? Have you told him how kinky you are? Does he know how much you used to love it when I got rough with you?" With a final sharp tug, he wrenched her sideways, dragging entire body towards the bed so she stumbled and sat down on the edge of the mattress, his large form looming over her. "Or do you still like it? Is this making you wet, Liv? Does it make you want to-"

The sound of the slap rang loudly around the room, rendering both of them silent. Edison looked down at her in shock, then rage. His mouth curved into a sardonic smile as Olivia stood up quickly, gathering the pile of clothes that had fallen from her hands.

"I will _never_ have sex with you, _ever_ again," she told him with finality, trying not to smile as he rubbed a hand across his reddening cheek. "And all of this, I can use this in court."

"This? Do you know what just happened here? I confronted you about an affair you're having and you hit me. Who's going to look good here?"

Olivia tried to remain confident, but his words made her shoulders sag just a bit. "I won't let you get away with this, Edison. You can't manipulate me. I'm going to go downstairs and go to sleep and you're going to stay the hell away from me. And in the morning I'm going to take the kids and look at some apartments."

"You're telling them that you're moving out?"

"Don't worry about what I tell them. They're kids; they don't need to know every detail. I'm done playing games with you. We're going to resolve this one way or another, but in the end we are _not_ going to be married anymore. That's all that matters; that I won't be around to take your shit."


	12. Chapter 12

"Are you having fun?"

Olivia nearly fell out of her chair as she snapped her neck up to look at Fitz, his eyes imploring and concerned. "Yeah, this is great," she stuttered as he rested a hand over hers on the table.

Lines appeared on his forehead as his eyebrows met in the middle. "Are you sure, baby? You seem upset. If you want to go home, I'll take you back to your car."

"No, really I'm fine," she insisted, turning her palm upwards to give his hand a light squeeze.

His hand tightened around hers. "I don't believe that for a second, Livvie. Please don't lie to me. I'm not going to force you to tell me anything you don't want to, but at least be honest with me."

Sighing, Olivia took a sip of her wine, gazing out the second floor window of the restaurant and at the darkening sky over the water. Boats lined the harbor, their owners putting on the finishing touches before the show would begin momentarily, and a crowd was beginning to gather on the dock.

"I'm sorry, Fitz. I am having fun, really, but there's so much other stuff going on right now. I just don't know how to handle it all and stay sane."

"Livvie." He paused, waiting until her eyes drifted to lock with his across the table. As close as they were, it was still difficult to see in the dimly lit restaurant. Fitz had picked it especially for its weak lighting – the seafood buffet was an added plus. He had called ahead to reserve them a table nestled deep into a corner, hidden behind a column. Since the dining area was located on the second floor they had a clear view of everyone coming up the steps but those arriving would walk in facing away from their table.

"Baby, I know that you think whatever you have to say might scare me away but let me tell you, I don't think there is anything you could tell me that would make me want to be with you any less," he assured her, his eyes lowering to watch a tiny smile appear on her full lips. "And I want to hear it all, every detail. Whatever is bothering you, tell me. I might not be able to solve it but I can certainly try to make you feel better about it. And if all else fails, those cookies I told you about are right next door, and we can go eat dozens of them until you're too stuffed to even be sad. Okay?"

"Okay."

"So are you going to tell me what's been bothering you? I know it's not new, Liv. It's the same thing that's been on your mind for weeks now."

"You really are observant, aren't you, Mr. Grant?" she quipped, picking up a crawfish shell from her plate and using a nail to scoop a piece of meat that had gotten left behind and popping it into her mouth.

"I'm an artist, I have a careful eye. And I hurt when you hurt, Livvie. It breaks my heart to see you so despondent."

"And I hate making you feel like I'm hiding stuff from you. I don't mean to seem so distant. This is all so new to me." Withdrawing her hand from his grasp, Olivia sat back in her chair and resumed looking out the window, following a young couple with her eyes as they sat on a bench, heads bent towards each other as they smiled and talked and couldn't keep their hands from wandering. "I can't wait until all of this is over. Then it will just be a whole new set of issues to work through, but those are things I can handle. I'm ready for it, for that chapter of my life. This one has dragged on for much too long."

Fitz sat back, watching the side of her face bathed in a soft glow from the streetlights outside, and listened intently, never interrupting. She loved that about him, that he would listen to her ramble around the point until she loosened up enough to say what she needed to.

"I told you things were going to get a little hostile in my house."

"Yes, you did," Fitz replied slowly, worry showing in his features. "Did something happen?"

Without turning away from the window, Olivia rolled up the sleeve of her sweater to her elbow, revealing five finger-sized, purplish bruises on the inside of her arm. Fitz leaned across the table, taking the arm gently in his hand and rubbing light circles across the bruised skin, watching her face for any signs of pain.

"You husband did this?" When his question was met with silence, he let out a low growl, the vibrations of which traveled the length of his body and Olivia's arm, causing her to shiver lightly. "I'll kill him."

"Don't," she said softly, putting her free hand on the one he had wrapped around her arm to comfort him, talk him down off a ledge. "It won't help anything. He was only being a dick. He wouldn't actually hurt me. He's upset right now, which is understandable." She took a deep breath. "He knows about us."

Olivia felt Fitz's body stiffen and he had to take a deep breath, loosening the grip he had accidentally acquired on her arm. "Sorry," he mumbled, running his thumb across the trail of bruises. "Shit, I'm so sorry Livvie," he said a bit louder, apologizing for something else entirely.

"It's not your fault. I did this, too."

"I'm still sorry. _I_ feel like the dick, for putting you in this situation."

"You haven't done anything wrong, Fitz. All you've done is help me and support me. Please don't start having second thoughts, not now. Although I guess I couldn't blame you for not wanting to be in the midst of this chaos. Just promise me you'll be there when I come out on the other side?"

"I'm not leaving your side, baby. No matter what."

The steely resolve in Fitz's eyes assured her that he was speaking truthfully, that she could fully rely on him. Her entire demeanor changed, her once tense body relaxing noticeably, her lips even curling upwards at him. At that moment, in one breath, she began to tell him all that had been happening: Edison and his threats, how she had only recently moved her kids back in with her, the things Harrison had told her, her search for an apartment, ending with the tale of the vicious conversation that had led to the marks on her arm. As she recounted Edison's words to him – in a much gentler fashion, her own feelings still a bit hurt by the harsh things he had said – she could tell he was struggling to hold back. His shoulder began to shake with the rage she saw light up his eyes and a she caught a glimpse of a Fitz she hadn't known existed; a ruthless and vengeful Fitz, a Fitz who had had something he loved threatened. It terrified her as much as it endeared her, how much he cared for her. One thing she couldn't have happen as her divorce pended was Fitz pummeling Edison to a pulp – something she had no doubt he could do. He wasn't ripped, but he had the toned muscles of someone who cared about health as opposed to strength, and she knew firsthand that he was agile and quick with his movements. Edison was a bit softer around the edges, the result of spending so much time traveling and eating in hotel bars and airports. He was the kind of man who thought money would solve any problem, and would receive a rude awakening the day someone decided he was really worthy of a good beatdown. He wouldn't stand a chance.

"You sure you don't want me to kill him?" Fitz asked through clenched teeth, his hand tightly gripping the edge of the table.

"No. I mean yes, positive, because if anyone gets that honor, it's going to be me."

Fitz gave her a tight-lipped grin. "Of course, how could I be so inconsiderate?"

"Very rude of you," she teased lightly, watching as his arms lost a bit of their grip. His eyes continued to hold an angry spark. "Oh, and there's one other thing I should probably tell you, so you can be prepared in case Edison gets really bold. He's been going on about your father, and his law firm, and trying to talk him into signing a contract to have Edison manage his finances. Apparently your dad isn't too eager?"

"My dad has always said he would never let anyone outside of the company handle that money," Fitz explained. "And he meant it. He loves that thing like it's his own child," he added bitterly.

"I know your relationship with your dad isn't great, but it's not really public knowledge. Edison thinks that my being with you will have some sort of effect on this."

"He wants that stupid account? Hell, if that's all it'll take to get him to back off, I'll fly over to Santa Barbara right now and tell my dad I'm taking over the business and let whatever firm Edison works for have the whole damn thing."

"I'm not going to let you do that," she told him sternly. "You don't want to run that law firm, so don't go doing reckless things that will have you resenting me later. Just…if he comes to you, talking about it, send him away. Don't entertain his notions, and don't let him taunt you because he's wonderful at it. And whatever you do, don't hit him."

"I'll think about it," Fitz grumbled, shifting his entire body to face the window.

"No, Fitz, you have to promise."

"I thought you didn't want me making promises?"

"I don't want you making stupid promises," she corrected. "You're going to promise me this because you're going to _do_ it. Promise?" She held out her hand, pinky extended, and Fitz turned back towards her, eyeing it oddly. "_Promise_?"

"Yes, yes, I promise." He stuck his hand out, linking his pinky with her, and she shook it good naturedly.

"Fantastic. Ooh, people are starting to light up their boats. Let's get out of here. I want cookies before we walk over there."

After flagging down the waitress, Fitz paid the bill and they stood up to leave, but not before Fitz took one of the balloons hanging by the front desk, intended for patrons of a slightly younger age, and tied it around Olivia's wrist. Then they rushed down the steps and out into the cold air, ducking inside of the next door. The smell of baked goods hit Olivia before she was fully into the doorway, and she found her nose pressed up against the glass, examining the array of pastries and treats lined up behind the counter. Fitz ordered a number of different flavors of cookies, accepting the hefty paper bag and dragging a pouting Olivia away from the display.

"It looks so good," she whined playfully as he dragged her across the street to the dock. He shoved a cookie into her other hand, laughing when she took the first bite and her eyes widened. "Holy shit, that's delicious."

"Told you so. Now will you come on?"

"Wait!" Olivia dragged her heels, stopping abruptly and reaching down into her purse. She withdrew a fuzzy, white winter hat with long ear flaps and pulled it down low on her forehead and handed him a bright red one with a fur lined brim. "We can't forget our disguises. I was going to get us sunglasses but alas, it is nighttime. I didn't want anyone's parents calling the police on us."

He nodded, pulling the hat low on his head. "Good call. You ready?"

"Yup, let's go."

The couple bounded eagerly from one decorated ship to the next, laughing at the creative names and talking to the owners. Christmas lights were draped beautifully across bows and sterns, giving the dock a bright glow to see by even as they got further away from the street and its tall lamps. By the time they had circled around and seen every boat, their bag of cookies was nearly empty, leaving them both hyper and stuffed. Olivia finally managed to take the lead, dragging Fitz to an empty bench and plopping down onto it.

"I can't move," she told him seriously. "Not one more inch. And I never want another cookie again as long as I live."

"That's too bad, because there's still a whole white chocolate macadamia one left in here."

She groaned loudly, putting a hand across her stomach. "Give it here." He handed it over with a laugh, and she glared at him between nibbling on it.

"You can't be down for the count quite yet. I want us to do one last thing."

"Can I sit down while we do this thing?"

"As a matter of fact, yes you can. We'll have to walk over there though." At her exaggerated moan, he offered, "I could carry you."

"That won't be necessary," she said, rising from the bench and stretching her legs. "Lead the way."

Taking her hand, Fitz lead her a few feet down the dock and under a banner announcing boat tours of the Chesapeake Bay. A few couples and a family with three children stood ahead of them, but Olivia could see from the size of the boat before them that there would be enough space for them to be secluded. When the driver announced that it was time to board, they moved up with the line, Fitz paying for the tickets and then guiding Olivia into the boat.

"Upstairs or downstairs?" he asked her, and she pointed upwards immediately.

"I want to watch the stars."

One of the couples and the family remained on the first level, and the top deck afforded enough space for the remaining couples to fan out. Olivia and Fitz chose a spot in the back corner, Fitz taking his seat first and allowing Olivia to place herself partially in his lap. Placing her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes and waited for the motor of the boat to pick up, the driver announcing that they would be pulling off in a moment, and relaxed further into Fitz's side as they moved away from the dock and into the serene landscape of water that bordered houses instead of the busy shopping center.

"Livvie, open your eyes, you're missing all the good stuff."

Forcing her eyelids apart, Olivia peered up at the pitch black sky that was dotted with bright stars. Out there on the water, away from the bustle of the town and the bright lights of restaurant and stores, everything seemed to intensify. The hum of the motor beneath them vibrated throughout her bones, the water rocking the ship back and forth lulled her into a peaceful reverie, Fitz's arms around her calmed her and drove her just a little bit crazy.

"Do you want another cookie?" he asked her, using his chin to indicate the bag sitting in his lap.

She shook her head. "No, I'm alright. You can have it."

Noticing the predicament he was in, with one arm trapped between her back and the seat and other wrapped firmly around her middle – not trapped, but she didn't want him to move it either – she reached into his lap, fumbling around in the dark until her fingers found the paper bag, and broke off a piece of cookie, lifting it to him. His lips ventured towards it, drawing the cookie into his mouth along with the tips of her fingers, sucking the crumbs off. A soft moan flowed from her lips, reaching his ears and having a dangerous effect on him that she felt immediately.

"Tone it down," she breathed as his mouth descended onto her, sucking at the skin on the side of her neck. "No marks, baby." Her hand snaked around to latch onto the curls at the back of his head, drawing him in closer. She tossed her head back, stretching her neck for him and focusing on the stars twinkling above them as the boat cruised along.

He mumbled his understanding onto her skin, the reverberation of his breath quickening her heartbeat. His teeth latched onto her pulse point, his fingers beginning to caress the skin just above the waist of her jeans. She wanted nothing more than for him to finish what he had started right there and then, under the open sky, on the water, everyone else be damned. The button of her jeans was suddenly open, the zipper dropping noisily, and his nimble fingers were brushing against more sensitive skin, skimming lower and lower until he reached his destination, evoking a strangled noise to bubble forth in her throat as Olivia held back a moan.

"Can't…not here," she panted, using one of her hands to grab the one he was so masterfully manipulating her with but not budging it. "Too loud."

Without deterring from his motions, Fitz pulled his other hand from behind her back and placed it around her shoulder, wiggling his fingers in front of her mouth. "Bite me."

Whimpering, she began to covertly move her hips to the rhythm of his hand, trying to find quick relief in his unrelenting fingers. The closer she felt herself becoming, the less control she found she had of the notes springing forth from her lips.

"It's okay, Livvie," Fitz crooned in her ear, picking up the tempo of his movements. "You won't hurt me. Go ahead."

Needing no further convincing, and unable to hold back any longer, she bit down on the side of his finger, closing her lips tightly around it so that only a soft whistle escaped. When she had lowered her hips back to the seat, and loosened her jaw, Fitz took both of his hands back, using the one that she had just had firmly clenched between her teeth to pull her closer. As she watched, wide-eyed, he brought the other one to his mouth and cleansed it of her essence.

Olivia took a moment to let her breathing even out before addressing him. "That was…"

"Don't mention it." He pointed forward. "We're about to dock. I guess I'll be taking you back to your car now."

"You don't have to," she said quickly, still in a daze.

"No, I don't. But it's time for you to go home, Livvie." Bending towards her, he deposited a firm kiss to her temple. "We'll have more dates. That I promise."

When they were safely back on dry land, Olivia's clothing intact once more, they headed for the garage and Fitz's car. They settled into the seats, blasting the heat before Fitz pulled out and drove towards the mall at which she had parked her car. Just as he angled into the parking space next to hers, a phone began to vibrate loudly from the floor of the car. Olivia snatched it up quickly, realizing she could have missed an emergency by not having it with her. The screen informed her of three missed calls, all from Harrison, just like the one coming through in that moment.

"Hello?" she answered quickly.

"Olivia? Thank goodness, I've been trying to reach you all night."

"Why? What happened, something wrong?" she panicked, fearing Edison had taken steps to get ahead of her. Fitz touched her shoulder, trying to get her attention and see what was wrong, and she held up a finger, indicating that he should wait a moment.

"No, not at all," Harrison replied, "the opposite, in fact. While going over the list of things that can be validly used in Maryland court as reason for divorce, I found something. A loophole, you can call it. I think I've found your way out."

* * *

**A/N: I felt so, so bad for making you guys wait so long for this update that I wanted to give you two chapters. I hope this one doesn't seem rushed, and that I didn't make too many mistakes. I won't bore you with tales of my busy life but just know I haven't forgotten about this story, and I have lots of stuff planned for future chapters. Speculate in reviews. xo**


	13. Chapter 13

"Where did you find this guy again?"

Olivia shot Harrison a dirty look for his loud whisper, giving the man seated at the large conference table a supportive pat on the back. Laptops and papers covered almost every inch of the oak table, leaving only a bit of space for Olivia to lean against it and look at the screen directly in front of them.

"He's a good friend doing me a big favor," she replied, giving Harrison another look. "Thank you again, Huck."

Huck gave a curt nod in response, pounding away at the keys of his laptop at breakneck speed and leaning closer to the screen.

Harrison's assistant, a mousy young girl who looked perpetually nervous, began to look even more anxious as she watched Huck work. "Did he just hack into someone's security system? Is that legal?"

"Probably not," Harrison said calmly, looking to Olivia as he did. "We're not going to be able to use this in court, you're aware of this, right?"

She waved him away. "Of course I'm aware. But if I can find something that lets me know that Edison has, in fact, slept with someone else, I can go about finding evidence to attest to that. It's better than going on a wild goose chase."

"Right, I still don't want anything to do with it. In fact, you never told me that and I was never in this room. Can we go talk in my office? I'd like to run my idea by you." At Olivia's nod, he turned to his assistant. "Quinn, please stay here with Ms. Pope's guest and make sure he's got everything he needs."

"But-"Her reply was cut short as Harrison led Olivia out of the conference room and two doors down to his own office.

"Is she gonna be alright?" Olivia asked as they took their seats on either side of Harrison's desk.

"Eh, she'll survive. She's new." Promptly switching into lawyer mode, he pulled a stack of papers from his desk and began to skim them before speaking again. "Have you been looking for somewhere to live, like I told you?"

"I think I've found a place. It's not too far from where we live now, it's a good size, and it's within my budget."

"Fantastic, you should move in as soon as possible."

"Real estate doesn't really work that way, though I wish it were that easy. Does this have anything to do with your brilliant plan?"

Harrison nodded, looking very pleased with himself. "It has _everything _to do with my plan. You remember the grounds for fault divorce in this state, correct?" She made a gesture in agreement. "Desertion was one of them, specifically that if one spouse abandons the other, they are at fault. However, it's come to my attention that this option can apply in another situation. Basically, if one spouse leaves the other because they feel it is essential for their health – physical, mental, emotional – or that of the kids', then the spouse that was left behind is at fault. If you take your kids and go, we can argue to the court that the environment in which you were living with your husband was unsafe, and that it was necessary for you to leave."

Feeling somewhat unsure, Olivia bit her lip. "Would that work? I mean, Edison's never hit me or the kids."

"It could work. He's never hurt you physically, but from the little that you have told me, I can glean that he hasn't been very nice otherwise. Look, I can tell that you're a private person. I get that. But in order for this to work, you'd have to open up to these people. It's not going to be easy, but if you follow my lead, I can make this work for you."

Olivia groaned and dropped her head to the table, letting her forehead hit the edge of it lightly, before sitting back up. "At this point, I'm thinking we could just blame it on me. I'll be the one at fault, I'll admit to what I did, and they'll let us have the divorce."

"You could," Harrison admitted, "but then you'd have a much harder chance at getting your kids. I know that's the one thing you're striving for in this. I'll be honest with you, I've seen mother's abandon their kids and come back and still get full custody in this state. It's possible, but it's still a risk, and not one I'm willing to take. Especially if your husband is as against this as you say he is. Has he hired a lawyer?"

"Not that I know of, but he's feeling pretty cocky right now. Every move I make is a joke to him. We'll see how hard he's laughing when I send those papers to him. How much longer do you think it will take?"

"If you do things my way? We'll serve him as soon as you've moved out. Now, how badly do you want this?"

Olivia checked her watch absentmindedly, as if it held all of the answers. She wanted it; she wanted it bad. She wanted to be done with the whole thing, but she would have to get through the hard stuff first, as unsavory as it was.

"I'll be out before New Year's."

"Good. Now go get that guy out of my office before they have me arrested. Where did you even find a computer hacker that experienced?"

"When you grow up around the city, you know people." she explained vaguely, rising from her seat and leaving Harrison shaking his head in wonder. Back in the conference room, she was met with an annoyed looking Huck, Quinn hovering over his shoulder and looking supremely interested in whatever he was doing.

"Is that him?" she chirped excitedly, putting a finger on the screen, totally oblivious to Huck grabbing a tissue and wiping at the smudge. "That's got to be him. And look! He's with someone." She looked up and spotted Olivia, motioning for her to come over. "Hey, I think we found him."

Moving to stand behind Huck's other shoulder, Olivia bent to get a closer look at the fuzzy image on the screen. The face was a bit out of focus, but Huck was working on amending that, zooming in and out and adjusting iris levels. Despite the unclear nature of the photo, Olivia recognized her husband, his build, his Armani suit, his dark green suitcase. She also recognized the woman walking with him, wearing a tight red dress that barely covered her ass. The woman was familiar, though Olivia couldn't place her exactly. Probably a secretary she had seen at office parties. When Huck had cleared the image a bit more, he began to switch from camera to camera, chronicling the pair's journey from the entrance of a hotel, all the way up to one of the suites. Olivia bit her tongue, resisting the urge to call Edison a bastard – even though he deserved it. She would feel too hypocritical.

"That's him," she muttered, looking away as the video feed revealed the door to the hotel room shutting behind them. They had barely made it into the room before Edison put a hand on the back of the woman's thigh and slid it upwards, letting it disappear under the high hem of her dress. "You can turn it off now, Huck, thanks."

He obliged quietly, slowly turning to look at Olivia. "Do you want me to look into other hotel footage? I've got the list."

Shaking her head, she patted him on the shoulder again. "No thanks. I think this will suffice." Quinn was looking at her worriedly, unclear as to the nature of Olivia's relationship with her husband.

"I'm sorry," she blurted nervously. "No woman should have to deal with that."

The smile Olivia gave her was weak, laced with sarcasm and a bit of guilt. "Don't feel sorry for me, please. It doesn't bother me as much as you'd think."

"Shouldn't it, though? Bother you?" the young woman asked curiously. "I mean, he's your husband and he's sleeping with someone else."

"I guess it should," Olivia admitted, evidently annoyed at Quinn's insistence. "But like I said, it doesn't. Things aren't always as simple as 'yes or no'." Quinn had a retort ready, her mouth halfway open, but Olivia turned back to Huck, effectively shutting her out. "That woman, I know her. I think she works with Edison, something secretarial. Find her for me?"

Nodding, Huck began to pack up his equipment. "Do you want me to talk to her?"

"No. When you find her, call me. I'll handle it."

* * *

Explaining to her daughter why she was no longer sleeping in the same room as her husband was rather high up on the list of things Olivia really didn't want to do. But Avery was perceptive and very smart for her age. Even though Olivia would wait until the kids were both asleep before going to sleep in the living room, and would awaken and hide her bedding long before they arose in the morning, the little girl knew something was up. She made her suspicions known, very discretely, one afternoon while Connor was napping. They sat in the den, Avery's tiny body perched in her mother's lap while her hair was being brushed out.

"Ow, Mommy, you're pulling," she whined, leaning forward to avoid the brush. Olivia put a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to sit up.

"Please don't move, Avi. I told you not to play in your hair and you did it anyway, so now we have to go through this process. There are only a few pieces left."

Even with the child facing away from her, Olivia knew she was pouting, her arms crossed tightly in front of her. "That _hurts_."

"Just watch your cartoons," Olivia instructed, turning up the volume on the television.

Avery obliged for a few minutes, losing herself completely in the bright colors and catchy tunes of whatever show was playing. She remained fully engaged – and free of complaints – until another round of commercials began to play. Then she became curious.

"Why do people get married?"

Olivia, being used to fielding random questions from inquiring little ones, absentmindedly replied, "Because they love each other."

"Oh." The little girl fell silent, as if satisfied with the answer, but Olivia could practically hear the gears turning in her daughter's head. She anticipated the follow-up question before it even left Avery's mouth. "So how come you and Daddy got married?"

The brush jerked in Olivia's hand, catching on a tangle and eliciting a yelp from Avery. "Sorry, sweetie." She planted a kiss where the scalp had gotten tugged. "If you stopped talking and moving so much this wouldn't hurt."

"Okay, I'll stop talking. But can you answer my question?"

Olivia sighed, finally breaking through the knot and running the brush through the curls on her daughter's head. "Why are you asking me this, Avery?"

After a brief pause, she replied dryly, "Am I allowed to talk now?"

"Don't be a smart aleck. Yes, you can answer my question, just don't move so much."

"I'm asking because you guys don't act like you're in love, not like the princesses in the movies. When they see the prince, they have shiny eyes and they smile a lot. But when you're around Daddy, you just frown and you don't even look at each other. You don't sleep in the same room, either. I don't think you're in love."

Able to slide the brush through Avery's hair without obstacle, Olivia pulled the thick mane back and secured it in two large braids. Avery turned around then, kneeling in front of her mother. "Avi, you shouldn't say things like that."

"Well it's true," Avery said defiantly, tears welling in her wide brown eyes. "You try to pretend like it's not, but it is. I can hear you guys yelling at each other at night when you think I'm sleep and I try to block it out with my pillow." As the tears began to spill down her cheeks, her little body shaking with all that she was still holding back, Olivia wrapped her arms around the girl and pulled her close, her own resolve nearly breaking as Avery's hands clutched at the fabric of her t-shirt. "I don't want you guys to fight anymore."

Olivia shushed her lightly, rubbing soothing circles on Avery's back. "We won't, sweetie. I'm so sorry."

When she had calmed down significantly, Avery leaned away from her mother, wiping her nose across the back of her arm and sniffling. "Miranda said her parents were always fighting and then they got un-married so they don't have to. She said they're happy and she's gonna get two Christmases 'cause she has two houses. So if you and Daddy get un-married, I'll only be a little bit sad."

It was the perfect opening, really, to tell her daughter what was happening. Olivia considered it for only a moment, though. She wanted Edison to be there when the news was finally broken, for them to tell her together. Her initial plan had been to tell Avery shortly before they moved, right after Christmas. But if she didn't tell her now, she would essentially be lying, and later on, when it did happen, the child would feel betrayed. There was no clear way to handle the present situation short of ignoring it, which would only arouse the little girl's suspicions. Olivia could see there was no easy way out.

"Your dad and I," she said slowly, watching Avery's face closely for a reaction, "are talking about things right now. There are going to be some changes around here."

"Like what?"

"Like…you and Connor and I will be going to stay somewhere else soon. That's all there is to tell now. But when Daddy and I finish talking, we'll let you know. Okay?"

"O-kay," Avery replied skeptically, accepting a kiss on the cheek before turning back around to watch the television. "My braids are too tight, can you do it again?"

* * *

The unopened bottle of brown liquid was probably not calling his name from the pantry, but that didn't stop Fitz from putting on headphones to try and distract himself. The holidays were approaching, possibly his least favorite time of the year, and the city was filled with garlands and twinkling lights and irritated last minute shoppers trying to get out of the cold. It was _that_ time of the year, when everyone was hard pressed to be with the family members they could barely stand eleven months of the year because something about the smell of gingerbread and pine trees made it bearable. For him, it was only a reminder of the family he almost had.

As a young boy, he had loved the holidays like any other child. His mother doted on him and his brother even more so than usual, and his father would put in an effort to be at home. Then his dad stopped showing up, claiming to have important business elsewhere. His mom couldn't seem to get into the holiday spirit after that, instead celebrating the joyous season with copious amounts of eggnog and prompting his own mood to plummet. Then, as a teenager, he had received the news of his older brother's death the day before Christmas. The one person who was not only always on his side, but willing to stick up for him, gone suddenly. That was the first time he had realized that he was never going to have the perfect family, like the ones he saw laughing together on the beach, unless he went out and built it for himself. Searching for the right woman had sounded impossible at first, but he met Mellie his first year of college and was smitten with her almost immediately. She was driven and ambitious, not even letting him keep her away from her studies. They were both in law school, until the day he decided his talents were better served elsewhere and took up residence in the arts building. The resentment she began to feel towards him was apparent, but she powered through it, insisting that it was only a phase. Not long after graduation they got engaged, and he took a teaching job at a local school. That was when she realized how serious he was about his art, and he was certain it didn't take long before she was off looking for someone with what she deemed a promising future. It was one week before Christmas that year when he found out the baby for which they had to abruptly begin planning was, in fact, not his.

Twice he had lost the things that meant the most to him, both set against a backdrop of ornately decorated Christmas trees and crackling fireplaces. This year, all he wanted was to have Olivia with him, or at the very least available to him. Things with her felt promising, even more so than anything he had ever felt with Mellie. He could see himself with her, drinking hot chocolate while wrapped in a warm blanket, building snowmen with her kids, exchanging gifts on Christmas morning.

Much to his chagrin, Olivia had effectively cut off communication between the two of them, stating that she at least needed to be out of the house before she could call him. Since their date, he hadn't heard from her once; he knew nothing about the cryptic message she had received from her lawyer, or if she was already packed up and ready to go. The lack of information was killing him, but mostly he just wanted to hear her sweet voice, look her in the eye, if only for a moment.

Until then, he was going to keep the promise she wouldn't let him make and stay away from the liquor, at least as long as it was still light outside. He would behave, because if Olivia did decide to call him, he would need his head to be in the right place. She would need his support, and he couldn't very well give it if he couldn't tell the floor from the ceiling. Rising from his couch, he threw a quick glance in the direction of the ever-silent phone and frowned deeply, turning away to move into his studio. He may not be able to spend Christmas Day with Olivia, but they would have their own celebration someday – soon, he hoped – and she deserved something special.

* * *

**A/N: The team has (kind of) come together, but this isn't going to be a big thing, I promise. It's just much easier than creating brand new characters. They work though, don't they? I hope you liked the little background into Fitz's life.**

**I haven't been feeling well recently but luckily I had this chapter mostly finished for you guys before it hit. Now I've got to battle this, school, work, church, _and_ writing, so things might be a little slow around here. My brain is just ready to give in and I think it needs a little break so I can give you all my best stuff. Sick brain is not conducive to good writing. xo**


	14. Chapter 14

The phone call came at 7 a.m., drowning out the hushed argument transpiring between Olivia and Edison in his office. That morning, the topic was where they would be having Christmas dinner. Every other year, they split the night in half, a few hours here, a few there. This time around, Olivia blatantly refused to set foot in Edison's mother's home, or to bring her children.

"They've spent enough time over there, and my mom is driving up to see them. So I'm taking them to Lauryn's," she told him with finality, putting an end to the entire conversation in her own mind. Edison was on another track.

"They spent Thanksgiving with your family; you can't take Christmas, too."

"Fine, then you can pick them up from Lauryn's around five, we should be done eating by then."

"You're kidding me, right?"

"As a matter of fact, I'm very serious. You'll notice that I haven't been doing much joking recently. And in continuing with my new motto of seriousness, I feel the need to tell you that I put a deposit down on a townhouse in downtown Bethesda and I'll be moving in on the 30th. Just in time for the new year."

Edison's face began to look like he was struggling for air, and he took in a deep breath in preparation for whatever he was about to yell next when Olivia heard her phone ring. She snatched it from her pocket, noticing the number was blocked, and turned to walk out of the room without another word to her heated husband. He wouldn't yell, not after she had relayed her conversation with Avery back to him. Once she was safely shut in her own office, standing among the boxes she had already managed to pack, she took the call.

"Huck?"

The man on the other line cleared his throat. "Yeah, it's me. I got what you needed. Tamara Fisher, twenty-six, has been working at Edison's firm for four years. She started out as the secretary, but was promoted about two years ago to his personal-assistant. Single, no kids, her family lives in Dayton, Ohio. Went to school in the area for accounting, which explains why she works where she does, but it looks like she does some modeling on the side. Right now she lives with two other girls in an apartment in Takoma Park. I'll send you her information."

"Thank you, so much."

"It's no problem." There was a lengthy pause, and Olivia waited for him to continue speaking. "Liv?"

"Yes?"

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you? You don't know this girl. She might be crazy."

Olivia laughed lightly. "No thank you, Huck. I've got this. I'm just going to talk with her, very nice and civil. And really, don't worry about me. I can handle myself just fine."

* * *

The sky was blanketed in drab grey, a staple of winter in the area, and it made the morning dreary. Frost clung to brown blades of grass and without a creature in sight, it was eerily quiet. Olivia found it to be a bit depressing as she pulled into the parking lot below a brick apartment building and took one of the guest spaces not too far from the door. She could see from where she idled that anyone who wanted to enter needed a key fob, and she was rethinking her plan, preparing to switch the car into reverse and pull away unnoticed. From the corner of her eye, she caught the flash of another car pulling up a few spaces away and, recognizing the window of opportunity, quickly made her way to the front door, making a big show of rummaging through her purse.

A young man, who looked to be in his early twenties, stepped out of the car and went around to the trunk, taking his time while Olivia tried not to freeze in the icy breeze. After a few minutes, the guy made his way towards the door and eyed her warily.

"I seem to have lost my key thingy. Again." She smacked a gloved hand to her forehead and rolled her eyes, hoping she sounded ditzy enough. Had it been warmer outside, she would have popped a few buttons on her blouse. "Those things are so easy to lose."

The guy smiled knowingly and began to dig around in his gym bag, taking what she felt was an unnecessarily long time. "Yeah, I know what you mean. They should totally be bigger."

"Yeah, totally," she agreed with faux enthusiasm as he finally located the plastic device and tapped it to the pad. "Thanks so much, you're a sweetheart."

He held the door open only a crack, smirking at her and pretending he wasn't flexing. "Maybe I'll see you around the building? I'm over in 5C, you could drop by sometime."

Olivia choked back a laugh. "Right, that sounds good," she managed, wedging the toe of her high heeled boot in the door and prying it open. "Thanks again," she called over her shoulder as she took off quickly down the hallway, bypassing the elevator bank and turning into the stairwell. Tamara's apartment was only on the third floor, and she found it quickly, the door sitting diagonally to the door she flew out of at the top of the steps. Apartment 3F. As she neared the door, the base line to a loud hip hop song could be heard over a blaring television. Olivia knocked tentatively, then harder, squaring her shoulder and going into business mode. Tentative wasn't going to get her what she wanted.

A petite blond in a long nightshirt and fuzzy slippers answered the door, beaming emphatically. One of Tamara's roommates. "Hi," she practically squealed over the noise. "Can I help you?"

Olivia cleared her throat and tried to talk over the music. "Yeah, I'm here to see Tamara."

The blond cocked her head to one side, regarding Olivia curiously. "Oh?" She looked briefly like she was considering turning Olivia away. "Are you family?"

"A friend. From back in Dayton." Olivia hoped she sounded convincing, and that she looked young enough to pass for the friend of a girl a decade younger than her. The guy downstairs had thought her young enough to hit on, at least.

The faltering smile on the young woman's face brightened again and she resumed shouting over the din inside of the apartment. "Omigosh that's so exciting, Tammie never talks about her friends back home but I know she'll be super excited to see you." She leaned closer, prompting Olivia to do the same, and dropped her voice to a normal volume. "She hasn't been feeling well lately, something about her boyfriend. He's a total douche, from what I hear. She doesn't say much about him but I know he's older, and I'm pretty sure he's married. He buys her all of this expensive jewelry and takes her on trips. She really likes him though, and thinks he's going to leave his wife but that, like, never happens."

Olivia tried to compose herself and reign in the shell-shocked expression she was surely wearing, clamping her slack jaw tightly shut. Her heart plummeted to her stomach and she was fairly certain the hallway had tilted onto its side. Some time ago she had deduced that Edison had had sex with other women; that she could handle. But to hear it confirmed, and to hear that he had been carting this poor girl around for years with empty promises, stunned her and made her feel partially to blame.

"Ooh, look at me, being a little gossip," the blond giggled. "Come on in. Tammie's room is down that hall, second door on the left. I think she's just waking up."

Nodding, her mind still elsewhere, Olivia thanked the girl and slowly made her way down the hall. The door to Tamara's room appeared much too soon, and she knocked three solid times. Sounds were muffled but someone had finally turned down the music, and she pressed her ear to the door, listening for an invitation. Someone mumbled that she could enter, and she slipped silently through the door before shutting it tightly behind her.

Tamara was standing with her back towards the door, looking out of the window above her bed. She had on pajama bottoms decorated with exaggerated cartoon characters and though she looked almost topless at first glance, Olivia gleaned the neon green strap of a sports bra hidden behind a long sheet of ebony hair. Clearing her throat, Olivia stepped forward, making her presence known.

"Ellen, do you still have my red tennis shoes-" Tamara whirled around and stopped, shocked at not seeing her roommate, but a strange woman. "Who are you?"

Olivia took a deep breath and smiled, hoping it looked warm and inviting. She was here to ask a favor, not to terrify the child. "Hi, Tamara, my name is Olivia." She couldn't help but note that the girl reminded her of herself at that age, about the same age she was when she met Edison. The resemblance began to sicken her then. Tamara had wide brown eyes and high cheekbones like hers, but she was taller and built more like a model – if models had backsides. Her skin was tanner, and her lips thinner, and her nose had more of a classic Grecian shape to it. But the similarities struck Olivia harder than the differences, and she found herself focusing on those and becoming upset.

"I don't care what your name is. You can't be in here. I don't even know you."

Smile widening, Olivia helped herself to a seat at the small desk on the adjacent wall. "Of course you do. You have to recognize me, Tamara. You were at my house for a party last New Year's, I made you brownies once on your birthday, you've probably played with my kids when they visited the office."

The snarl on Tamara's face vanished completely, replaced by total shock, then embarrassment and shame. She slid down until she was seated on the edge of the bed and looked past Olivia at the wall, her eyes welling with tears. Olivia was beginning to feel nauseous but couldn't stop there. One final nail in the coffin, then she would reroute. Leaning towards the bed, and taking extra care to be sure her smile didn't falter, she said sweetly, "You've been having sex with my husband, so I'd say we know each other _very_ well. Wouldn't you?"

The dam broke, and tears rushed down the girl's face as she buried it in her hands, hiding from Olivia's sickly sweet stare. She took a moment to calm down a bit before raising her head and blubbering, "I'm s-so sorry, Mrs. Davis. It wasn't supposed to ha-happen like that. He was just teaching me how to do what he does, so I can do it someday, and then we spent so much time alone together and he's just so sweet and I _love_ him. You just don't understand."

Olivia lifted herself up to plop back down on the bed, leaning close to Tamara's bowed head. "But I do."

"You do?" Tamara's face was twisted in confusion, waiting for the explosion that should have already come. Instead, Olivia wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder.

"I do," she confirmed with a nod. "Love sneaks up on you, and it's not always at the ideal time. Or with the ideal person. I get it, I really do. And that's why I came here."

"To tell me you're okay with me sleeping with your husband?"

Olivia's smile wavered and she was grateful Tamara's eyes were still unfocused. "_No._ I'm here because I don't love Edison, and I want to get a divorce. He's told me that he wants to be with you. You love him, and you want to be with him, don't you?"

Tamara nodded eagerly. "I do, I really do."

"Good. Then you'll be willing to help this process so everything goes smoothly and quickly?"

"Of course. Anything you or Edison need me to do, I'm there."

"The thing is, divorce in this state isn't just signing a few papers and running off. There's a lot of red tape, and you're the one who can help us get through it. All you have to do is make a statement – written is fine – saying that you and Edison have been in a relationship for a few years now, and that you've been intimate. Make a record of all the things he's bought you. This way, the court will allow us to part ways."

Tamara considered it, nodding slowly along with everything Olivia was saying. "What do you get out of this?" she asked angrily, and Olivia had to clench her hands into fists to keep from choking the entitled little brat next to her. Getting defensive over money that wasn't even hers to defend, and the likes of which she would probably never see. If prior knowledge was any indication, Edison had no intentions of marrying this girl. She was too high maintenance for his tastes, and too flashy, Olivia thought as she eyed the girlishly bright room. Of course Edison liked that she was young and sprightly, and that he could keep her content with a few well-placed gifts from Juicy Couture, but he was very clear about the fact that he wanted someone conducive to his image on his arm. Divorcing his wife and shacking up with his assistant was not the stuff of 'good images', especially if that assistant was ten years his junior.

"Nothing, I don't get a thing. And I don't want a thing except my freedom. You know he's got children that he has to continue to care for, financially and otherwise."

"I'm aware, and don't worry, I won't try to get in the way of that. Not even when we start having kids of our own."

The next smile Olivia gave her was sad, full of pity. She really wanted to whack the poor girl upside the head and see if it knocked some sense into her. That, however, was not her responsibility, and she already had plenty of problems of her own. So instead of getting on her soapbox, which she so desperately wanted to do, she gave the girl a small one-armed hug and stood, setting a business card on the desk.

"Mail the statement to me when you're done, and I'll be in contact. Don't try to run or do anything stupid, please. It will only prolong this and we all want it over fast." She paused in the open doorway, turning over her shoulder and noticing the wistful smile on the girl's face. "And you should call your mother, tell her about this. I know you think you're grown but...well, I'm thirty three and I still get lost sometimes."

From the brusqueness of Tamara's nod, Olivia knew she wasn't going to pick up the phone and make that call anytime soon. She didn't push, just wished the girl a happy holiday carefully shut the door behind her and let herself out of the apartment.

* * *

Between helping Lauryn cook, making sure her kids didn't break any of the toys she had just bought, ignoring the multitude of text messages Edison was sending her, and taking calls from her mother every few seconds to give detailed directions, Olivia wasn't sure she was going to make it to dinner. It was only one p.m. and food was always served at four. Once she thought she could catch a quick nap by announcing she was taking a bathroom break and Connor's noisy discovery of her hiding place among the pillows in one of the boys' rooms had ruined that. She had the expression of a petulant child as she peeled potatoes over the trash can and enviously watched the kids snooze among their toys in the living room.

"Have I ever told you how much I dislike being a grown up at Christmas?"

Lauryn let out a bark of laughter from her station, polishing silver at the kitchen table. "Please, you weren't even here for the cleanup. When have you ever seen my kitchen this shiny?"

"The day you moved in, maybe. When we did the walk-through."

"Exactly." Olivia's phone buzzed for the sixth time and Lauryn scoffed loudly. "Um, since when are you so popular?" Then she smiled suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows. "Is that your new boo?"

Olivia shushed her loudly, peering around the corner to make sure the kids were sufficiently distracted. "Quiet down, please. It's probably just Edison doing some more whining. He's picking the kids up after dinner."

"_Right_, and then you're going to see your boo. Dress up in a sexy Santa costume, hang some mistletoe from your belt buckle. Give him the Christmas cheeks."

A potato skin hit Lauryn's forearm and she looked up at Olivia's blushing face. "Will you please stop that? I'm not going to see him today, or any day until my divorce is finalized."

"I know you're trying to maintain this no contact thing but damn, Liv, it's Christmas. The man is smitten with you and he's out here on the East coast with no family. The least you can do is call." Olivia was about to admit her sister was right when Lauryn continued, adding, "And describe your sexy Santa costume to him, give him some over-the-phone Christmas cheeks."

"You're a sex maniac," Olivia said, exasperated. "There's no stopping you. Do you ever talk about anything else?"

"All the time. It's just that this is the subject you clam up about the most, and that makes me three times as interested. If you just told me all the dirty details I wanted to know, we wouldn't have to go through this every time we speak."

"Ooh, dirty details? I'd like to hear."

Both sisters turned towards the entrance of the kitchen and were greeted with the sight of their mother, arms outstretched in invitation. Lauryn rolled her eyes and resumed polishing the silverware and Olivia gave a small wave. As children, the girls had not been very close to either of their parents, both of whom preferred spending their time arguing with each other and avoiding the house altogether than with their kids. It was something both Pope girls had gotten over years ago, but they still weren't ones to jump for joy every time the mother they affectionately referred to as Patricia walked through the door.

"Well it's good to see you two haven't changed a bit," she humphed, gliding into the kitchen and taking a seat across from Lauryn and pointing at her. "You've still got that attitude and your sister is still a prude."

"I am not a prude," Olivia called, clearly annoyed, from her perch on the other side of the kitchen, "it's just none of your business. Either of you."

Lauryn waved a hand at her. "She's just a private person," she explained to their mother. Whenever their mother was around, Lauryn went immediately into big sister mode. "And I was just messing with her. You're kind of early, Ma."

"I know, I know. I wanted to spend some extra time with my girls and the kids." Patricia looked around. "Where are my sons-in-law?"

"Roger has work until three, so he should be here soon," Lauryn explained. "Believe it or not, there are a lot of fires on Christmas." She shot her eyes to Olivia, wondering if she should continue or allow her to answer for herself.

"Edison is..." Olivia trailed off, managing to make a perfectly spiraled peel and watching it twist its way down the plastic bag lined can. "He's at his parents. He'll be here to pick the kids up later."

"Trouble in paradise?" Patricia sniffed. "If you're as 'shy' about sex with him as you are with everyone else, I'm not surprised."

Lauryn looked ready to yell something but Olivia spoke up. "For the last time, we are not going to discuss my sex life tonight. At all. Okay? If you must know, Ma, we're currently seeking a divorce. It's really none of your business."

"Divorce, huh?" Their mother laughed sardonically. "I guess both of you are a bit more like me than you want to admit."

"Bite your tongue," Lauryn grumbled. "Why don't you go say hi to the kids? They're watching TV in the living room."

"Fine, fine." Patricia rose from her seat, straightening out the skirt of her dress. "I know when I'm not wanted. At least my grandkids love me."

"They're still young," Lauryn called to her retreating form. Then she turned to Olivia. "You don't think I'm like her, do you? Please say it ain't so."

Olivia giggled and pretended not to hear. In reality, they were both like their mother, though in different ways. Whereas Olivia had inherited her mother's creativity and love of foreign languages, Lauryn was brazen and blunt like Patricia. They both lacked the same verbal filter, the one that kept most people from asking insanely personal questions. Instead of saying that, she just shook her head. "She's not _that_ bad, Laurie. I mean, she's gotten better. Patricia will always be about Patricia, but we could have had worse."

"Of course, there's always 'worse'. I just don't want to raise my kids like she did us, and have them end up all screwed up."

"Are we screwed up?"

Lauryn considered the question. "You're alright, I guess. You used to be a bit of a pushover and you were awful at expressing your feelings but you've recently grown out of it. I like that. I used to be a rebellious teenager who would do anything for attention, and I mostly grew out of that. So as far as people go, I'd say we're only a little bit screwed up."

"I can work with a little bit."

At that moment, a knock sounded at the door and it swung open, revealing an influx of cousins and aunts and uncles. Lauryn stacked the newly polished silver neatly in the box and stood.

"Here they come. I guess I have to go play hostess." A false smile spread tightly across her face. "Does this look sincere?"

Olivia glanced at her and gave a thumbs up. "Fantastic. I'm practically quaking with holiday cheer just looking at you."

The evening progressed smoothly – or as smoothly as one can when an entire extended family tries to fit into a one family home. Before dinner, everyone entertained themselves by opening presents and catching up with trivialities. Choruses of _Last time I saw you, you were just a little thing_ and _Have you heard what happened to Uncle Lewis?_ echoed amongst the relatives. The closer it got to dinner time, the rowdier everyone became. Empty stomachs and long drives made for an irritable crowd that milled near the opening to the dining room while dishes were being set on the credenza. Lauryn spent most of the night with her eyes rolling towards the ceiling, silently nudging her sister every time something she found utterly ridiculous was said. Olivia, on the other hand, only smiled at her family members. They were all a bit crazy, and somewhat loud, but they were sweet and the powerful aroma of Christmas dinner and the sparkle of the lights on the tree were putting her in a very good mood, though a shadow of melancholy hovered over her every time she thought about the fact that her kids would be leaving before the night was over. It would be the first holiday since they were born that she would not be spending every second with them.

Mealtime went off without a hitch, minus the glass of apple juice one of the kids knocked onto the tan carpet. Lauryn graciously informed the child's parent that since it was Christmas, no one had to get spanked but someone had better find the carpet cleaner and start scrubbing. Almost as soon as the last fork had fallen with a clatter to a bare plate, the doorbell rang, causing everyone to cast curious looks at the latecomer.

"It's just Edison," Olivia explained, rising from her seat and approaching the card table set up nearby for the children. "Come on, kids. Time for dinner number two."

A pronounced pout appeared on Avery's face but she didn't protest, only gave lackluster hugs to everyone seated around the table and followed her mother to the foyer. Edison stood awkwardly just inside the door, shuffling his feet and looking around as if he had never seen the place before. When they neared him, Olivia passed Connor to him along with his coat. They silently began to bundle the kids in jackets and scarves and gloves.

"I guess I should get used to this," Edison said quietly, one foot already out the door. "This is how it's going to be until they go off to college, huh?"

"Don't be like that, not today. Go be with your family and enjoy some time with your kids. And Merry Christmas," she tried with a weak smile.

The kindness she tried to offer was not returned, only swatted away with a curt nod. "See you back at the house."

Most of the family had returned to the living room to sit around and talk and drink, their eyes purposefully avoiding the interaction taking place by the front door. Olivia moved in the opposite direction of the flow of people, falling into step with her sister by gathering dishes from the dining room table and transporting them to the kitchen. She didn't want to talk, and Lauryn didn't say a word, only handed her the washed dishes to dry and stack. Once all of the china was neatly placed on the counter, they turned to each other and leaned on the counter.

"I know you're not used to not seeing them all day on Christmas, but you'll get through this Liv."

Olivia nodded and sighed. "Yeah, it's definitely a different feeling. They're my babies. It's not that I don't trust Edison with them, but he's not the most attentive. Thank goodness the rest of his family isn't as crazy as him and his mother."

"They'll be okay," Lauryn assured her. "What about you? You gonna make it through the night with the Peanut Gallery?" She jerked a thumb towards the crowd in the living room.

"I'm not really in the mood," Olivia admitted, watching them laugh and holler from a distance. "I want to be somewhere quiet, but I'm also not in the mood to be alone right now."

"You could always go see your boo." Olivia turned to her sister with a bitter look, wiping the smirk clean off of Lauryn's face. "Don't be like that. You have nowhere to be, your kids are safe, and you want to be happy on Christmas, don't you? He's probably miserable, and all by himself. Just call him and see where he is, Liv. I'll cover for you if you need it. Go be with your man."

The phone rested in its cradle on the wall and Lauryn picked it up, untangling the spiraled cord and presenting it Olivia. They both stared down at it, listening to the quiet hum of the dial tone, and Lauryn shook it in her hand. Finally, Olivia extended an arm and slowly wrapped her fingers around the receiver, lifting it from her sister's hand. As her fingers began to punch in the numbers she had already memorized, Lauryn stepped forward and kissed her on the cheek before returning to the guests in the living room.

"Hello?" Fitz's voice sounded muffled and slow, and Olivia realized she had awoken him even though it was still early in the evening.

"Hi," she replied gingerly, twirling the cord around her finger and feeling like a teenager taking a call from her crush.

"Livvie?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. But it's Christmas and the kids just left and I'm not really feeling like spending the rest of the night in a room full of my family. I was going to ask if I could come over but you go ahead and go back to sleep."

"No," he shouted, suddenly wide awake. "I'm up. I fell asleep somewhere between A Charlie Brown Christmas and Elf, and I'm pretty sure Babes in Toyland is coming on next. I don't know how much more I can take."

"I can't stay long but…"

"It doesn't matter," he finished for her. "As long as I get to see you. What time will you be over?"

"It shouldn't take me more than twenty minutes, if traffic is light." Just as she was about to say goodbye and hang up, he called out to her again. "Yes, Fitz?"

"Thank you."

A smile spread across her face and she curled her fingers, bringing her hand up to cup it over her mouth and mask the goofy grin. She drew them back slightly to whisper into the phone, "Like I said, it's Christmas. You're supposed to spend it with people you love."

* * *

**A/N: Can I just say, I love "handling things" Olivia so I had to find a way to work that into this story. It wouldn't have felt right otherwise. I decided to release this chapter from captivity earlier than planned. Just FYI, the next chapter is going to skip over the rest of Christmas night _but_ I'm thinking about writing a little interlude about their night. If I do, it will probably just be on my tumblr (jelzz). So look out for that. xo**


	15. Chapter 15

There were still a number of sealed boxes in the middle of the living room, and Avery's bed was a heap of slats of wood on the floor of her room, and Olivia had yet to buy a frame for her new mattress, but by eight p.m. on moving day, she was much too exhausted to care. Patricia had taken the kids out while Lauryn and her husband helped with the heavy lifting, but the children were back by that time; it was the main reason the adults slowed down their progress. It was next to impossible to get any unpacking done with a slew of Christmas toys strewn around. Couple that safety hazard with the list of displeasures Avery voiced loudly, and Olivia found herself clocking out for that day. Whatever was left couldn't possibly be that important. After seeing her sister and brother-in-law off, she stumbled towards the living room and her body had barely hit the couch before her eyes were drifting closed.

"Mom-my." Olivia lifted her head from where she had buried it under throw pillows on the couch – the failed attempt at catching a quick nap. Avery stood there, hands on hips, her face grave. "I do not like it here."

Sitting up, Olivia rubbed her eyes and yawned. "What's wrong with it?" she asked, more out of habit than actual curiosity.

"It's small. Our old house had lots of different rooms and this one only has a few. Also, there's no playroom."

It was true; the townhouse was significantly smaller than their old dwelling. It had the same amount of bedrooms, but they were smaller in size. Because of the shortage of rooms, Olivia had coupled the living room and den, propping her lounge chaise up in one corner and leaving the majority of the room for the kids. She had opted to use the basement as office space.

"This is your playroom," she explained. "And take your hands off your hips."

The hands quickly dropped to Avery's side and she lost the persona. "But it's not the same. There's less room to do stuff and your chair is in here. I want just a kids' room."

"It is a kids' room. I have one piece of furniture in here, Avery. Don't be so selfish. I told you that things were going to be changing a little bit."

Avery lifted a foot to stomp, thought better of it, and let it fall gently back to the floor. "But it didn't change a little bit. It changed a lot." She put two hands on the edge of the chair and lifted herself to sit next to her mother, swinging her legs over the end. "I miss our old house. When are we going back?"

"We're not," Olivia replied stiffly. When the little girl looked ready to cry, she amended, "I'm not going back. You can soon. For now, can we just make the best of this place? It'll be fun. You and I can have a sleepover in my room tonight."

The little girl clapped excitedly and jumped down from the couch. "Okay, I'll go put my jammies on," she called as she scampered up the stairs.

Whatever the kids had done that day had worn them out, and Connor had briefly opened his eyes when Olivia had lifted him from his car seat and settled him in his new room. As she had helped tug his pajamas onto his sleep-ridden body, he had only rubbed his eyes and mumbled through a yawn, "Where is this?" Before she'd had a chance to answer, his head was lolling to the side and a small snore escaped his mouth, so Olivia just laid him gingerly in bed that had been passed down from Lauryn's kids – his first time not sleeping in a crib – and kissed his forehead. On her way to her own room, she poked her head though the door to make sure he was sleeping soundly, and spent a few moments watching his little form in the dim glow from the nightlight. By the time she reached her own room, Avery was sprawled sideways across her mattress, fast asleep. Olivia just chuckled and nudged the little girl aside so she could lie down. With the lamp in the corner still on, Olivia crawled into the small patch of bed not occupied by one of Avery's limbs and immediately fell into a sound sleep.

* * *

As soon as Olivia awakened the next morning, her first thought was that she had no idea where she had left her cell phone. It was ringing, its sound echoing from somewhere in the house, and it had to be important if whoever it was needed to speak to her at – she glanced over at the clock on her nightstand – seven fifteen in the morning. _It better be important_.

Untangling herself from her daughter who had rolled over in the middle of the night, Olivia padded off in search of the incessant sound before it awakened one of the kids. After digging between couch cushions and the tool box, she finally found the phone perched atop a box of dishes on the kitchen counter, and on the lit screen were notifications, a lot of them, from Edison. A few phone calls, some text messages, voicemails and emails. Olivia felt her stomach drop, but a small smile tugged at her lips. He had obviously received the mail.

Just as she retrieved the phone, he called back and she counted four rings before answering with a nonchalant, "Yes?"

"Don't you 'yes' me Olivia. What the hell do you think this is? I already told you we aren't getting a divorce."

"And I told you I don't care what you say, Edison," Olivia shot back, trying to keep her voice down. "This is happening, whether you like it or not, and you should really get used to it. Now if I were you, I'd read everything over – you'll probably have your lawyer do it, which is fine. But whatever you do, you're going to agree to this. You're holding on to nothing, Edison. Our marriage is over, and this has become just a power play for you. Well it's not going to work anymore. So let me tell you what's about to happen.

"First, you're going to agree to divorce me. It's very simple, you just sign that little thing you got in the mail and send it to the listed address. Then we can meet up with our lawyers and work out a plan for custody and child support. I'm not asking you for any money. And hopefully, if everything goes smoothly, we'll reach a settlement quickly because I'm ready to be done with you and move on with my life. If not, we'll have to take this to trial and neither of us wants to have to go through that because it's just so stressful and time consuming. And you have no chance in hell of winning."

Edison let out a harsh bark of laughter. "I don't? Please, Olivia, you're playing with the big boys and things aren't looking too good for you."

"That's funny, because I was just thinking the same thing about you. You have no idea what you're up against."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he questioned incredulously.

"It means that this is over for you. I told you I mean business, and I was serious. Even if you fight me on this, any chance you had of beating me is long gone. My advice to you? Let me go and run off with that little girlfriend of yours."

There was a sharp intake of breath through the phone before Edison said quietly, his voice straining, "What are you talking about, Olivia?"

"I guess it's your turn to play dumb. She's a very sweet girl, Edison. And so willing to help because all she wants is to be with you, and have your children. She loves you." Olivia's tone was sickly sweet and dripping with contempt, her voice cracking with the effort to keep her volume down. "I told you I wasn't playing games. Sign the papers. Oh, and Happy New Year."

"You-" Before Edison could finish, she ended the call and quickly put the phone on silent.

Everything was in place, and all Olivia could do at that point was wait it out. The petition was out there, and the ball was in Edison's court. Whether or not he chose to shoot was up to him, and it was a decision she hated having to leave to him. Olivia was confident that she would win this; the only uncertainty was how soon she would find herself victorious.

Sighing, she turned to look out the picture window above the sink that overlooked the tiny patch of backyard. The lack of control she had over the situation at the moment was driving her slowly insane. Crucial decisions about her life, her kids' lives, were being made and it was all in Edison's hands, until he sent the papers off. Then it would be in the hands of the court. It seemed everyone was getting the final say but her. One thing Olivia could control, however, was the amount of clutter in her new house, and she tried to take her mind off the whole thing by unloading the last of the boxes in the kitchen. Just as she slid the last stack of plates into place, straightening them on the shelf, her phone rang again, this time displaying an unfamiliar number. Olivia took the call and gave a hesitant greeting. It was still early, and people were beginning to test her patience with all of the phone calls before ten.

"Liv, darling," Patricia trilled brightly, wide awake despite the hour. "Glad I caught you. I have a favor to ask."

"Yes, Ma?" Olivia made a face, silently conveying her displeasure to the empty room.

"Don't sound so excited. I was thinking I could take the kids with me to visit my family in Virginia for a few days. I can drop them off at your place on my way back home."

Olivia bit her lip, uncertain. "I don't know. They just came back home from Edison's parents' and I think they need some time to adjust to the new house before I send them off to visit with cousins they barely know."

"I think you need time to adjust to the new house," Patricia corrected. "Kids are kids, they settle quickly. And I know you've still got packing to do and...ahem, business to take care of with their father. Wouldn't you prefer to have some quiet time?"

Going down the list of things she needed to complete, Olivia had to agree that a few days did sound nice. She could unpack the last of the boxes and search for a bedframe, go grocery shopping without the little hands that loved to shoot out of the cart and grab any and everything off the shelves. Her editor was demanding more pages before the end of the month, so impressed was she with the manuscript Olivia had sent in just before Christmas. The book was coming along nicely but she had to admit, it was difficult to really focus on what she was saying when there were always snacks to make and tantrums to allay and bruises to kiss. Plus, if she really managed her time well, she thought she might be able to work in some time to see Fitz. A ghost of a smile appeared on her face as she remembered their night together on Christmas.

"Well, what do you say?" her mother's voice interrupted her errant thoughts.

"Okay, they can go. But no spoiling them like you usually do. Christmas just passed, I don't want to see any new toys."

"Fine, fine," Patricia relented with a sniff, and Olivia could tell she had no intention of keeping the promise. "Dear, how are you doing? I mean, with the divorce and everything. It can't be easy."

"I'm not going to be your source of gossip while all of your friends are busy with their families."

"Oh, Olivia, you've never given me any credit. Your or your sister. I'm not trying to be a gossip, I'm trying to be a concerned mother. You know I know better than anyone how stressful divorce can be. I've been through it three times. I guess that's my problem, I was always too busy being focused on that instead of listening to you when you needed me."

"Mom," Olivia mumbled guiltily. "I'm sorry, I just... You're not usually the type to ask what's wrong."

"People can change. You've changed. You've become this new, stronger Olivia because you realized you can't always rely on others. So I understand if you don't want to talk about things just yet. Just remember, I am your mother so if you ever need me, I'm always right here. Alright?"

There was a brief moment of silence as Olivia considered the offer. "I'll talk to you," she said slowly, "just not yet."

"I understand, Olivia. I'm not pushing you for information. But I just want to let you know, I'm very proud of you. Contrary to what I may have shown you, divorce isn't an easy thing."

"It's not, no. But it's the right choice. What time will you be here to get the kids?"

"Give me a couple of hours. We'll hit the road by noon."

* * *

After spending the morning preparing the kids and their suitcases before sending them off, and then finishing the last of the unpacking, Olivia crawled onto her mattress, ready for a nap. She had never liked the process of moving, not that many people did. But finally everything was where it was supposed to be, and she was seriously considering pros and cons of actually having a bedframe when her phone rang again. She reminded herself to put it on silent after this call before answering without looking at the screen, a slight edge to her voice as she greeted the caller.

"Did I call at a bad time?"

The sound of Fitz's voice immediately put a smile on her face, and Olivia clutched the phone just a little tighter. They hadn't spoken since she left his house on Christmas night; between her packing and him just trying to keep busy, they hadn't had much time.

"No, not at all. I actually just sat down."

"How's the new house?" he inquired, and she could hear the genuine curiosity in his voice. "It's not haunted or anything is it?"

"Nope," she laughed, "not haunted. Just…different. It's a bit smaller. And very empty."

"Are the kids not around?"

Olivia took the phone away from her ear and held it up to the room for a second, then positioned it between her head and the pillow. "Does it sound like there are kids in here? They're spending the next few days with my mom. So it's just me and a bunch of empty boxes."

"Sounds lonely," Fitz mused. "Sounds like you need company. I could check my schedule, push some things around. I'm sure I could squeeze you in somewhere."

"Glad to hear my company is so important to you," Olivia replied grumpily. "I appreciate the offer, really I do, but it's not the best idea. Not right now. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, Livvie. I understand. But you owe me when all of this is over. You owe me hours of just sitting in the same room together."

"Do you mean like a date? Is that your weird way of asking me on a date, Fitzgerald?"

"No," he stated with finality, and she could practically hear him shaking his head through the phone. "We'll have dates, too. I'll take you to every fancy restaurant in the city, and to a bunch of less fancy ones where the food is twice as good. In the summer, we'll sit on a blanket and watch movies on the Mall. I'll wear nice suits sometimes, and you can get dressed up, and we'll go to the art department's Christmas party, or you can pick the party. Those will be our dates, and you'll know when I'm taking you on a date.

"What I'm talking about is you and I, being in the same room and not having to rush for once. We can just sit there and stare at each other, or we can talk, or you can take a nap but I probably won't let you sleep for long. We have a lot of catching up to do. I don't know nearly enough about you, and I want to be able to see the look on your face when you're telling me all about your childhood. I want to see the look on your face when I tell you about the time I broke my arm in sixth grade. I want us to pack years of stories into a short time so we can start making new ones. And I'm a very impatient man." Fitz chuckled lightly and let out a breath.

When Olivia found her voice again, she teased him lightly, "How long have you been holding onto that little speech?"

"Would you believe me if I told you that was all off the top of my head?"

"If it was anyone else, no. But you? I believe that. Have you always had such a way with words?"

"Not even close," Fitz replied dryly. "As a kid, I had a stutter. Drove my dad crazy. I suppose you have a way of bringing out the best in me, Olivia Pope."

With a heavy sigh, Olivia sat up with the phone pressed tightly to her ear and drew her knees up to her chest. "When this is all over, we can spend days just talking and staring at each other. We don't even have to leave the bed, or get dressed."

"We should probably wear clothes, or I won't be able to focus," Fitz interceded.

"Fine, we'll wear clothes so your hands don't stray, but the other stuff still stands. Your place or mine?"

"We should probably switch it up," Fitz said seriously. "We can alternate. But whoever's house we're in, the other person has to cook."

"You drive a hard bargain, Grant. Deal."

* * *

**A/N: Before you say anything, I am aware of how long this has taken. Although, in my defense, I believe I gave a fair warning. This one was kind of short, but it's more of a filler chapter than anything. There's more coming and I don't _plan_ on taking another month to update, but things rarely work out how we plan them. So I'm just going to ask nicely for your forgiveness and hope you haven't given up on this story, because I haven't. Seriously.**

**(And for anyone who may have missed it, what I have now dubbed as chapter 14.5 can be found on my tumblr, and just add this: post/45880823206/aeipathy-chapter-14-5-christmas-n ight . It won't make a difference if you read it or not. But it's definitely rated M.****) xo**


	16. Chapter 16

Exactly three weeks after Edison was served the papers, Olivia was startled awake by the shrill ringing of a telephone. Her arm flew out to turn on the bedside table lamp and her knuckles connected with something hard. Cursing, she tried again, this time more slowly, and succeeded in bathing the room in a faint glow. The alarm clock – she assumed this was the culprit behind her sore hand – read 12:45. Wrenching the phone from its hook, she gave a gruff hello, her voice hoarse with sleep.

"I need to talk to you."

Olivia groaned and settled back into the pillow, the phone balanced her ear. "It's one in the morning, Edison. Whatever it is, it couldn't wait another seven or so hours? And before you say anything, if this is more of you trying to talk me out of the divorce, it's not happening."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," he apologized; his voice was sincere, which didn't sway Olivia in the slightest. "I actually wanted us to meet somewhere in person and go over some things, if that's alright."

Too tired to argue, Olivia grunted something resembling her assent and halfway listened while Edison named the lobby of a nearby hotel as the setting of their meeting. When he was done, she hung up without saying goodbye. A relieved feeling settled over her as she thought Edison was finally going to cooperate – and then she began to question whether or not this was some sort of trap. Finally, the need to sleep overtook her curiosity at Edison's intentions.

* * *

Dressed in a sleeveless white blouse and billowy grey pants, Olivia went straight to the hotel after dropping off the kids. Edison had made the meeting for lunchtime, which meant she had a few hours to kill. Her laptop bag was digging into her shoulder blade as she found a table to sit and set up a little workspace; the last few weeks had consisted of nonstop work on her manuscript, mostly by hand, and now she needed to transfer a hefty stack of paper onto her computer. The novel was nearly finished, and as such she was continuously going back and revising, trashing entire chapters. The stress of having to present the novel as a whole was starting to get to her.

Nearly half of the stack she had arrived with was typed by the time lunch rolled around, and as soon as a large wave of professionals in sharp suits entered, she cleared her table and prepared for her own meeting. Her outfit made her look less out of place than she felt, but she played it off nicely, squaring her shoulders back and steeling her eyes in a look that was usually reserved for misbehaving kids but nicely gave off an air of 'don't fuck with me.' She had a clear view of the door from where she sat, so when Edison arrived she saw him immediately. While he searched the crowd, she took the opportunity to look him over, assess his mood. From the way he stood, she was surprised to find that he wasn't there to start a fight. Hopefully it wasn't too early to tell.

Edison waved at a waiter as he made his way over to the table and ordered his drink – scotch, on the rocks – before he's even fully taken a seat. They both looked at Olivia expectantly, who only asked for water with lemon. Best to keep her wits about her.

"Hello, Liv. You look nice."

Olivia could tell that he was acutely aware that she wasn't buying whatever he was selling, and that confused him. Perhaps he was being genuine, or perhaps this was his last ploy – finally treat her like she had been wanting him to for so long. Either way, this was not a social visit.

"Alright, you've got me here," she told him, her tone clipped, "so get to the point."

A look of shock briefly crossed Edison's face before he cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. The waiter returned with their drinks just then and after they turned down his offer for a food menu, Edison turned to her once more. "I invited you here so I could apologize. We've been having problems and I wasn't putting any effort into our marriage. I can't blame you for finding someone else; it's not like I was there when you needed me."

"I wasn't out looking, Edison. And this isn't about anyone else outside of our marriage. You're right; you weren't there when I needed you, physically or otherwise. This is where we are now – in a broken marriage where at least one of us is miserable and two small children who don't need to grow up in a household where their parents are always either fighting or ignoring each other. I grew up like that and it was awful. I'm not putting my kids through the same thing to spare your feelings."

Edison held up his hands, conceding the point, "You're right. But do we have to be like that? I mean, is there absolutely no chance of us working this out?"

That was what it was about, then. Olivia bit back a harsh laugh. "We didn't have to, no, but it's too late for what-ifs now."

"So…this is it then?" The ice had begun to melt into Edison's untouched drink and he took a small sip before pushing the glass away. "You really want a divorce?"

"Yes," Olivia replied firmly, hoping this would be the last time she had to explain it to him.

Sighing, he leaned back in his chair and reached a hand under the table, extracting a stack of papers from his briefcase. "Then I'll sign the papers. My lawyer looked them over and we didn't have any provisions. I'll mail it out on my way back to the office." With quick precision, he scribbled away at the various dotted lines and inserted the papers into a thin white envelope marked 'Overnight Delivery'. "Do you want to tell the kids yourself?"

"Connor won't understand just yet. He's just going to have to go along with it. I was thinking you can have next weekend with them and we can both tell Avery when I drop her off?"

"Sounds good." Edison nodded.

"You'll plan to be in town next weekend?"

"Yes, of course. The kids haven't been giving you any trouble, have they?"

Olivia fought the urge to smirk. Over the last week or so, both of the kids' behavior had improved greatly. Whether or not it was because they were away from their father she did not yet know, but their first weekend with him alone would certainly give her the answer. "Nope, none at all. I should get going. See you Friday."

* * *

Pulling up to her old house and ringing the doorbell like a guest was an odd feeling to Olivia. Everything looked exactly the same from where she was standing, like nothing significant had happened when, in fact, her whole life was changing. It was early evening and most of the families on the block were sitting down to dinner, which meant no nosey neighbors around to question her whereabouts. Thankfully, the door swung open, revealing Edison, before she could start to feel too uncomfortable.

Avery and Connor pushed past their father and ran straight for the playroom, but Olivia managed to snag the hem of her daughter's shirt before she could get too far. "Why can't I go play?"

"Because your mom and I need to talk to you for a second," Edison explained, leading the way to the kitchen. "Does anyone want something to drink?"

Olivia shook her head 'no' but Avery asked for a juice box, hoisting herself up onto one of the island chairs. As she punctured the tiny pouch with a straw and began to take small sips, Olivia looked at Edison, indicating that he should start.

"Avery," he began slowly, "how do you like the new place?"

"It's okay," she offered. "I missed home, though. Do we get to come back for good soon?"

"That's what your daddy and I want to talk to you about," Olivia spoke up. "You remember when I told you there were going to be some changes?" Avery nodded. "Well, your dad and I have gotten a divorce, which means we aren't married anymore."

"Does that mean one of you can't be my parent anymore?" Avery questioned, confusion clouding her face. "Don't two parents have to be married?"

"No, every family is different," Olivia told her. "But your dad will always be your dad, and I will always be your mom. We just won't be husband and wife anymore. It means that I'm going to be living in the new house from now on and your dad will stay here. And you and Connor will stay both places."

Avery considered that for a long moment. "Okayyy." She chewed the straw in her empty drink. "Can I have another juice box?"

"No, one is enough for tonight. You can have some water," Edison told her and Avery looked almost shocked, as did Olivia. Edison never said no to the kids, preferring to give them whatever they asked for rather than dealing with the resulting temper tantrums.

"Fine, then can I go play now?"

"If you have any more questions, you know you can always ask us," Olivia reminded her. "Yes, you can go play." She kissed Avery's forehead and lifted her from the chair, placing the child on the floor and watching her scurry off. "I don't think you've ever told her no."

Edison shrugged. "There's a first time for everything." They both stood in awkward silence for a moment, Olivia shifting from one foot to the next and considering how appropriate it would be to bolt for the door. "Hey, can I ask you something? How did you find out about Tamara?"

"That," Olivia replied, "I can't tell you. Just know that I have my ways, and you clearly underestimate me." She gave him a pointed look. "And I think it's safe to assume that won't be happening anymore."

* * *

**A/N: Yes, this is very short. But after a small poll, the general consensus was that I could get away with this short filler chapter before a time jump coming up next. School is winding down, and graduation is coming up, and once I decide what I'm doing in the fall I'll have an exorbitant amount of free time to spend writing. So forgive me for this tiny excuse for a chapter - and the lack of fluff, but nearly the entirety of the rest of this story is going to be fluff so I'll make it up to you. xo**


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